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\
i
THE SCOTTISH
GALLQVIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA.
O L \ B o o w :
l^rlntrd xt the anUriTBity Vtree,
BV MACLIHMB AND MACDOPQALh.
THE SCOTTISH
GALLOVIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA.
BY
JOHN MACTAOGART.
.S/-;(V)AV) FP/J'/O.V.
■>
-'
LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAAtS-,AND Cy.
• - ^« ^
GLASGOW: THOMAS D.'-MCjRIjSaN.'';'
1876. •-'-•
19/7 J
Imprcssiou, Two Hundred and Fifty Copies.
'.'•.
:;••'
•f" '•» •
• • ••« •
• • • • 0
• ••
#
• ^ z * « • •
V • ••
• • • • • *
' - -, •
•••.•*
THE
SCOTTISH
©allobiiimn Sncgdopeiim,
OR,
1 HK ORIGINAL, ANTIQUATED, AND NATURAL
CURIOSITIES
OF THE
SOUTH OF SCOTLAND;
coNTAiNim;
SKETCHES OF ECCENTRIC CHARACTERS AND CURIOUS PLACES, WITH
EXPLANATIONS OF SINGULAR WORDS, TERMS, AND PHRASES;
INTERSPERSED WITH POEMS, TALES, ANECDOTES, ETC.,
AND VARIOUS OTHER STRANGE MATIERS ;
THK WHOLE
ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE WAYS OF THE PEASANTRY, AND MANNERS OF
CALEDONIA ;
OR A WN OUT AND ALPHA BETJCALL Y ARRANGED,
By JOHN MACTAGGART.
"MAY ne'er WAUR 1!E AMANG TS."
Tinkler s Totut.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, AND
SOLD BY MORRISON, FENCHURCH STREET ; STEUART AND PANTON,
CHEAPSIDE; A. CONSTABLE AND CO., EDINBURGH;
WARDLAW AND CUNNINGHAM, GLASGOW;
J. SINCLAIR, DUMFRIES ; J. NICHOL-
SON, KIRKCUDBRIGHT; AND
J. DICK, AYR.
1824.
TO
ALL HONEST AND WARM-HEARTED
GALLOVIDIANS,
THIS WORK IS DEDICA TED
BY
THKlk AFFKCTIONATK FRIEND, AND
HUMBLK COUNTRYMAN,
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
A S it has been fashionable with authors now a long time, to
place before their books things called Introductions, I
dare say then (to be something like those strange fellows in
whose corps I am enlisted), one must appear before mine,
though methinks they are not of much use on the whole, but
resemble, in general, a methodist dranting grace before dinner.
O ! that I could make mine seem like a lovely country lass,
with fair yellow hair, red cheeks, and bosom divinely moulded ;
just like her who conducts strangers down a worthy farmer's
trance^ to where, in rural divan, are assembled a heavenly
family.
But doubtful am I that it will turn out to be more like a
" rouch curr tyke" seated in a comfortable manner on some
foggy tomacky on his " ain twa tashellie hurdiesy^ introducing,
with many bouchs and boW'icmvs^ a straggling club of ill-tongued
tinklerSy with their cuddies^ their hampers^ and their ram-Jwrns^
to a wild clauchafiy situated in the " loop " of some wild moor-
land glen.
Be these things as they may, however, either as fancied, or,
like the great English Lexicographer's ** 1 wo-and-forty pounder
before the door of a swine-stye," I shall proceed as quietly as
possible, though, most likely, in a rambling manner.
How, and when the notion of this production first struck my
foolish brain, I am at a loss to say ; I am inclined to imagine
that it is mostly the work of instinct ; that the conception of
X INTRUDUCnoN.
it was created in my scull, when that thick skull itself was
created, and afterwards expanded as it expanded ; for, from my
youngest days I have been a wanderer amid the wilds of na-
ture, and keenly fond of every curious thing belonging to my
native country ; while Providence has surely been very kind to
me in this respect, for casting my lot in a nation among a
rare and singular class of mankind.
There is nothing I am prouder of than that I am a Scotch-
man, and, I may add, a Scotch Peasant too; for where on
all the earth is there a country that can be compared to
Scotland, in every noble thing that elevates a nation? and
where is there a class of human beings to be found like her
peasantry? they are not only an honour to the land they
live in, but a credit to the whole world, though I, for one, add
little to their glory.
The songs which have been produced by them, charm some
of the inhabitants of every zone. Italian ditties, formed by the
most tuneful bards of that country, are but like the " Cheeps o
the Stro^vmouse^^ to the mellow notes of the " Alavis^' when
compared to them ; and when the lays of the land, like a
** boot^^ sink so far beneath those of the glens of the north,
those of no other department of the globe dare be sung in com-
petition with them.
But the divine art of a Bums, or an Ettrick Shepherd, is not
by any means the only thing which upraises, or has upraised,
the " kintra-folks d Auld Scotland^'' they have it in their power
to brag of producing learned men and philosophers ; they have
turned out Kuclids and Socrates' s. Mungo Park, too, the cele-
brated traveller, was a peasant ; but, above all, they have the
patriot Wullie Wallace^ whom none but a Switzerland Tell can
be put on the weigh-beam with \ and, what is all this to their
warm honest hearts, their tender feelings, their simple manners,
and their strong independent minds? He would be a writer of
pith, indeed, who could praise them too much, and one of
matchless impudence who could revile them ; they are, though,
in need of neither, for they exist before the eyes of the world,
and speak for themselves.
Yet for all, till of late, the Scotch peasantry have been
INTRODUCTION. XI
allowed to remain on their dear rural mountains and dales,
without being ever looked at almost by travellers, or said a
word about by historians. It was not until they themselves
found out the way of noting upon paper, that anything re-
specting them has come to light ; and their great modesty hath
not allowed them even yet to say very much.
We have voUuncs on volumes, as many as would fill a score
of whurl-barnni's^ all wrote resi)ecting our Kings, Queens, and
*' ither Ugfowk" yet hardly a word said about the ^'people ; "
nor is this neglect to be wondered at, when we consider what
noise and stir these nobles made in the days of yore ; no poor
penman chap durst think or speak of any other creatures but
them, when guns are a " crackin aff at our lugs," and dirks a
driving into ** briskets " to the ///// ; few are so bold as be so
composed as to tell old tales or sing a bufich " o^ hamely
balladsr
So then, our works in the vernacular language of the olden
time are but scanty ; and suppose there had been more, suppose
there had been yet extant the poems of fifty bards as old as
** Tom the Rhymer, or Barbour,^' still I am inclined to think that
the lingo of those distant days, as spoken by the peasantry,
could not be hunted out ; the natives mostly of every nation,
have generally at least two tongues they work with, the rustic
and the polite, the one spoken by the grandees, the other by
the commonalty ; now, methinks, our old bards have all written
in the former, for it is the same language with ancient English
and German, in which we find their books wrote, and this was
the court language of their day : for my own part, I doubt th^re
has never been a genuine rustic MS. of an ancient date come
before the world.
But true it is, there is no race of men stands less in need of
historians to record their deeds and draw their manners than
these I have been talking of ; for, as they abide so close by the
laws of nature, their variations are few, their artless simplicity
admits of little change to take i)lace, though learning may be a
boggle for frighting away some of their freets and superstitious
obscrviuiccs, yet these they do not in a hurry forget for all ; for
though some of them now may fail, for instance, to hold ** auld
XII INrRODUCTION.
hallmoeen^' still thc7 know well how it was wont to be held, and
the same with every other concern of the time gone by. There
are still many who see fames yet, and believe in the tale of
warlocks^ ghaists^ wraiths^ and 7intc/ics, and while there are
such persons, and such there always will be in Scotland,
nothing of ancient fun and fancy has a chance to be lost. And
so long as old people delight to talk about themselves, and
young ones listen, and so long as such goodly things as
farenichts are kept up, it is likely that the most of what resj^cts
the " kintrafawk " will be known, when time is a very " /yarf-
headed auld carU'^
So I scamper along rather in the " ram stam " manner, and
a beautiful introduction is doubtless a composing; fearless
quite of criticism am I, and by no means sharkish inclined for
fame ; this work, intended from the beginning a present to my
native country, makes me no way afraid that it shall soon
perish ; it will be found in many a rustic library of the south
of Scotland, scores of years after I am in the grave ; it will be
a book that will never create much noise, yet still it will not be
in a hurry forgot ; in that same " bole " with the " warks " of
Allan Cunninghamj Burns, Nicholson, Peden^s Prophecies, and
Riitherford^s Letters, will it take its place. And though some,
in looking it over, may laugh and wonder how any body of
common sense would take time up writing and printing such
j/7/v-looking matters, still the more they consider the affair the less
they will be inclined to wonder, and at last feel rather disposed
to come over to my side of the (question ; for 1 have heard a
good Scotch tale laughed at by Scotchmen, and rather ridiculed
at the first and second reading, and an English poem praised at
first glance to the skies, which, in a little time, changed hues
like the chamclion, changed so that the darling poem was not
spoke about at all, whereas the other was read and better read,
until a lasting edition became printed on the heart.
Perhaps it may be thought that I am sporting myself at pre-
sent at vanity fair, but I beg to say that I am (juite serious ;
I am prophecying what exj)erience tells me will come to pass,
for little of this faulty book of mine was composed in the closet,
in the musty library of cobwebs \ no, it was gathered by my
INTRODUCTION. Xlll
own eyes and cars, concocted in my own slender intellect while
at my rural employment, and >\Tote down on scraps of paper as
I found it convenient, in the midst of the works of nature, in
the open air, beneath the flaring sun, in a quarry hole perhaps.
Sometimes again on a " braesidcy'' and ablins whiles in a " thick
iimdy' or on the back of a '' grey-stanc ;'' the whole, therefore,
has the smell, as it were, of Nature ; her rudeness is about it,
and when her plaid keeps the shoulders of anything warm,
that thing looks contented indeed.
No Adi^ocaU^ library has been flung open to me — no Aiich-
enleck MS. has been given to favor my researches — the whole
is the doing of habit and memory — never having the oppor-
tunity to receive regular education — my learning has been all
got by snatches — and good hints have been of service to me.
And this I regret the less, for had I been a mighty scholar,
books would have filled my brain ; I could have discovered
few Nootka Sounds, or places and things out of the common
navigator's tract; and more so, there was little need that I
should be deep read in the Earse, the ancient Scandinavian,
and Norse languages, in order that I might hit the roots of the
strange words I bring forward ; (as the worthy Dr. Jamieson has
bravely done, with the Scotch words found in books ;) for if he
pleases, he may give, if he can, the derivations of my words,
caught as flying from the Peasant's mouth.
He may rummage the archives of yore to satisfy the throb-
bing heart of the inquirer. I will take the world as it stands,
and see what I can find to please myself and other rustics ; —
some of the Doctor's words I have also put down to make
mine more complete, and it will be found I am obliged to
differ from him whiles with respect to their meanings. It is not
one man nor ten that can compose a national dictionary; it
takes much time, and many writers, to produce a standard, and
it will also be found, it is to be hoped, that I copy nothing from
him, nor any other.
I have none to thank for lending me a hand to perform the
job — indeed, I asked none ; the whole was composed without
any knowing but myself that such a concern was on the
" jAv^j," by keeping the thing dark I came on better: for none
XIV INTRODUCTION.
were afraid to talk with me on old matters, because thev did
not suspect I was "Az/Cv// notes;'' had they thought that the
" aiM wives " and manv others would have trembled for me,
and keep*d their mouths sealed. As it was, it required me to
use some craft in order to get at information I wanted ; by put-
ting questions direct nothing is obtained, but to talk in a care-
less manner about the subjects wanted, as if it was little matter
about them, then everything comes bolting out.
From those characters most famous for originality of mind,
I received the things of greatest value ; these are all mostly
patriotic Gallovidians, and scorn to lose any of that darling
legacy left them by their forefathers ; they scorn to lisp English,
but tell their honest tales in plain " Braid Scotch^
For there are many classes of peasantry in Scotland, they are
by no means all " tarred wi' the same stick^' as the sa}nng is.
Their various situations and various tempers help to make the
difference. Those of the Lmuthian and Benvickshires^ for
instance, are quite different from those of Yarr<yiodale and
Galawater^ and just because the one is a level, fertile, plough-
able tract, and the other a pastural land, of hills, of glens, and
wild mountains. The natives of these latter pleasant places
have their minds more poetically tinged than the former, being
much more among the works of nature ; and then, being in
general shepherds, they have leisure to behold and admire her
in every form, while the others are confined to the arts of agri-
culture, and are obliged to grovel in the earth without almost
having time to look up at the sun even for a moment. In ever>'
way do peasants so differently situated differ from each other ;
and in nothing more than their language. The dung-cart hind
has a stinking slang which he gilds his turnip ideas with, where-
as the other plaids his rare fancy in pure and simple words,
which are at once pleasingly melancholy and beautiful.
Neither of these ranks of peasants though, whom I have
been talking about, are the same with those of the South of
Scotland ; they occupy a place somewhere between them, and
partake a little of what belongs to both. They are not exactly
of the mountain nor of the plain, but of the hills, the hollows,
the woods, and the waters between ; their imaginations wallow
INTRODUCTION. W
not in putrid sludge, neither do they live with phantoms beyond
the moon, and spirits of the blast ; but with matters of a manly
and strong substantiality.
When tracing the nature of their language, it is soon seen
that they are rather of a Celtic and Saxon origin ; the three
letters "^//," which terminate many of their words, strike one
at once, that old Gaul has been amongst them with a witness ;
and the various terms which have their roots in the Saxon and
Teutonic, bespeak the Scandinavians having, too, " a finger in
the pie." However, I doubt not but my natives of the South
use many strange words, which neither Celt nor Saxon ever
mouthed — but tribes of more remote antiquity than any of
them. WTio knows but old " Daddie Druid,'' who dipped so
deeply into the works of nature, might have let a few of his
rare secrets escape his temple aneath the gnarVd oak tree, for
there are few races of beings on the earth a match for them at
mimicating the sounds into words, which Nature herself is
heard to utter ; not a sound she emits by any of her works, but
they follow her to an astonishing closeness ; and so a good part
of their tongue is of an universal stamp, and might be under-
stood by the inhabitants of almost every country.
Thus the word ^^ guidering,'' which we use to express the
sound a turkey cock emits when in wrath, with his tail " ///-
/an'd'' and ^^ fiiM/e red" \s much like ^'' gl(nvgl(nvter^' used for
the same purpose by the French and Germans.
But I must be thinking of coming to a conclusion, and the
sooner I susoect that happens, the more I shall look like a wise
man.
If any consider themselves hurt by the mention I may have
made of them in the course of the work, their pardon 1 ask,
for I am by no means of a surly temper ; and though I some-
times bite my own tongue between my teeth, it is because I am
not aware that it is in a place liable to be bitten ; so if I have
injured any one, it is because I was not aware of that either.
Those whom I have drawn as originals, as surely they are,
will not rail against me, for originals care not what is said by
any one respecting them ; and as for the errors of the work,
and many there are in it, let them rest on my own broad hack.
XVI INTRODUCTION.
Works of this kind are always fuller of errors than any others ;
also, should any be displeased because I have not taken notice
of some curiosity which was a favourite of theirs, be it told,
that I was either not of their way of thinking, or that I knew
nothing about it.
If the concern ever comes to a second edition^ a thing not to
be expected, in this century at least, it may be made more com-
plete by the mention of what has escaped notice — till then, it
may remain as it is ; and if I could hear the genuine opinion
of one honest warm-hearted rough countryman^ and that opinion
favourable, then I would be beyond the grasp of the fangs of
all the critics in the world — for his judgment is dictated by
Nature, and when she is pleased, all is well.
I am pretty sure already, that there are some " kintra-fcmtk "
it will not anger very much, and that they will let me share
^^pot-iuck " with them, when I take my fishing rambles away by
the wild moorland " burns''
Perhaps some may think I deal too much in poetry ; I must
tell those, that it is not to shew that I know a trifle about the
art — for a ''^trifle'' I only know, being no poet. But I am
fonder always of something wild and out-of-the-way, than if it
were humble and tame ; that is to say, I admire the manners
of the " Foumart'' before those of " Bawdrons ;" and a " Brock"
more than a *^^ Lap-dog," So, God bless my friends, and
Heaven ever smile on the natives of the South of Scotland ; for
a better race of beings is no where to be found between the
sea and the sun.
TORRS,
I'cbruary I?///, 1S2V
THE
GALLO VIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA,
&c. &c.
A.
l\ — All. But the natives of Galloway, and their neigh-
bours of the South, take a larger mouthfti of it than the
other people of Scotland ; that is to say, they pronounce
it broader, and can be known to belong to that district
of the Lan d' Cakes by this little circumstance.
Abee — Alone. Let me abee^ or let me bee; means, let me
alone ; these phrases are much used by children, and
wanton maidens; the latter of whom desire their Lads
often to let them abee — When the truth is, they would
take it very ill were they obeyed.
Abeigh — Aloof, shy, &c. She keefd hersell abeigh ;
means, she fought shy, that her affections were not easy
to gain.
Ablins — Perhaps, likely, may be, &c. Sometimes a word
pronounced able, is used in its stead.
Abok or Yabok. A name for a gabbing, impudent, chatting
child.
Aboon — Above. The Lift Abootu The Firmament above.
Aboon-broe — Above water. It is said of those who can
hardly keep themselves from sinking in the horrific pool of
misery, that they can barely keep themselves aboon-broe:
2 ABO ABO
broe, in this and all other cases, meaning, a tap liquid of
some kind or other.
About the Buss — About the bush. A very old phrase,
signifying, not downright, the way of a mean sculking
coward. Thus we say of an honest man, that he never
goes about the buss; he never attempts to cheat, has no
doublings to defraud ; he makes nae iang wund stories^ and
whaups {the rape. No, no ; he drives right forward, through
bush and brier.
In that good old Poem, the Cherrie and the Siae, writ-
ten by Captain Alexander Montgomery, about 1590, and
printed by Bob Walgrave, some seven years after, we meet
with this phrase respecting the Buss very frequently ; as in
the 46th verse, when branding dread, danger, and despair,
as cowards :
" They are mair faschions, nor of Feck,
** Zon fazards durst not for their neck,
** Clim' up the craig to us.
** Frae we determined to dee,
** Or else to clim Zon Cherrie Tree,
" They bade— About the Buss."— &c.
And in the 77th verse of the same Poem, it is said of
Experience,
** For Authors quha alleges us,
** They wad na gae about the buss,
** To foster deidly feid, &c."
In no other author of the Captain's day, nor in any I
have seen before him, is this phrase to be met with; and
as it is heard used at the present day ten times in Gal-
loway, for once in any other part of Scotland, it may help
to prove, that Montgomery was either a native of the
country, or well acquainted with its language. It is said
he was bom in Germany, but that the greater part of his
life he passed in Scotland, but where in Scotland, has
been a question; various towns and counties claim him.
Tradition says he lived at Cummingstown, on the banks
ABR ACK 3
of the Tarf — Galloway — now known by the name of Cumms-
town ; this seems very probable, for many reasons, but
particularly from passages in his Poem, actually pointing
out the natural scenery of this seat of the Gumming. In
truth, his muse seems often to have heard the roarin sough
of the DocLchs o^ Tongueland Water,
Abreed — Abroad. Scatter it abreed to the four louns means
scatter it abroad, to the mercy of the winds.
AcKAViTV, AcKWAViTY, or AcKWA. — The chief of all spirituous
liquors, viz.. Whisky, when taken to excess, does not even
make such a wreck of the human constitution as others do,
such as rum and brandy, and when taken in moderation, as
it should be, there is none other half so good. Far be it
from me to hold up any thing that may be thought allied
to vice; and if whisky be so, as many grave men think, I
have little cause to eulogize it, being no great bottle man :
nature having given me a frame of body that is a sworn foe
to any fluid stronger than Adam^s Wifie, However, as the
majority of men are moulded different, I will say, that a
dram d gude ackwa and caulier-water, refreshes a fainting
heart, in a sultry simmer day ; and the same quantity o'
Farintosh, is quite comfortable to take in a cauld wunter
morning, while even a Tumbler or twa d Toddy , looks social
on an evening. So I won*t join with M'Neil and others, in
saying it is the Scaith d Scotlan, I am more incHned to side
with Bums to a certain extent Scotland may be very
thankful that it is her prevailing drink; as a drink, like
every other nation, she must have ; the English have their
drowzy brown stout, the Turks their opium, the South Sea
Islanders their kava ; but what brings on a quicker, or a
happier intoxication, than the pure Mountain dew 1 how it
exhilarates the soul, how it exposes the sons of men, and
shows them in their true colours, be they good, bad, witty,
or how ; it tries their strength, as itself is tried by specific
4 ACK ADD
gravity ; letting it be known, the beads they sink or swim.
The old song is at this of it :
** A man whan he's sober is deils ill to ken,
" Gude sooks than there's nae kenning o' him,
** But prime him wi nappie than ye may gae ben,
** And learn what he is — for 'twill show him."
Many have whisky to be a slow poison, which, perhaps,
it may be, in a certain degree, i)articularl7 if any way
adulterated. A person told the celebrated Billy Marshall
the Tinkler^ once, that it was a slaw pizion — " It maun
be deils slaw indeed, quoth the Ciypsey Chief, for I hae
tooted it OHTe in nogginfus now, for mair than a hunner
year, and am tae fore yet hale and fear." He died when
1 20 years of age.
And once, a Kirkcubrie carter^ having brought some coals
to a certain very abstemious medical man, the doctor,
according to the custom of the country, presented him
with a dram d lohisky for by-payment The carter drank it
off in a moment, making his 7i*cc finger tiuirl above the
quickly emptied glass, in fine stile ; when, quoth the Doctor,
with some emphasis — " That's a nail in thy coffin, Sanders."
" May be sae (replied the drunkard) I wish it were fu o*
sic tackets."
Adder-beads — Beads made by Adders. Such beads are
common now in museums, and other repositories of rarities ;
they are mostly about the size of a hazle-nut, oval shaped,
of an amber hue, but full of specks of other beautiful colours
— The hole through them is about half an inch in diameter,
and large enough to admit a child's little finger. That the
Adders make them, is never doubted, but how, is as yet
never exactly known; the country people say it is gone
about this way. Seven old Adders, with manes on their
backs, have a meeting in some snug heather bush, before
the sun ; with them is also a long small white one ;
operations are begun by the hairy reptiles, putting forth
ADD ADD 5
from their mouths a glutinous matter of a honey colour. The
white Adder moulds this into a certain shape, forming the
hole by creeping through it — and still as it creeps in-through
and out-through the matter, the old ones keep salivating
it — so the bead is constructed, and left to harden in the
sun.
But (add the peasantry) it is impossible to stand any
time, and behold them thus at work in their bead manu-
factory— ^as at these times they are full of wrath and swift-
ness ; so that if the observer be seen by them, he has little
chance to get off alive.
For my own part, I much doubt if this operation of the
viper hath ever yet been beheld by human eyes ; the beads
are found in the places where the Adders abound, and no
where else ; they are found too, in greater or less quantities,
according as the serpents are for number; so every thing
about them argues they are a production of the Adder, but
for what purpose they form them none can tell ; the subject,
though, methinks, might be dipped deeper into by naturalists
than it is. To illustrate it, however, a little farther, I may
give the Poem of the
ADDKR-13EAI).
Sawncrs Beiliebank a peeling
Heathery scraws upon the moor.
To riggin tight his simple shieling
The shiel whilk did his l)aimies co'er.
Sol was bceking warm and brissling,
In a heather buss hears he
Fuffing soun's — and meikle fissling,
Sawners steps aside to see.
But — mercy on his auld grey beanly,
Sic a sight he never saw ;
A sight for whilk he was afeard, ay,
While a day on him did daw.
Adders rough, and gruesome horrid,
Casting on their and)er-bead ;
A white ane, wattled and bored,
Gluey tongues did slake and feed.
ADD ADD
Sawners at the knees did totter,
Deil the tae the man cud gang ;
Still he stood — his flesh did sotter,
Sure was he they wad him stang.
Travellers hae aften stated
That Indian bodies, ow're the sea,
Hae been like Sawners fascinated,
Unfit frae rattlesnakes to flee.
Ay, he shook and swat and glowred.
Blinkers winking no ava ;
Expecting just to be devoured.
But faith, his Flauchter-spade did fa'.
This broke the charm — than Sawners held it,
Down the moor wi* speed he flew :
What spangs he made, now quick he wheeld it,
Thinking the adders did pursue.
And that they wampuzd just ahin him.
Gaining on him every spang ;
And that they'd soon be darting in him
Mony a witterd poisonous stang.
Up the fell his son was climing,
Wi' the nocket in his han' ;
He sees his father bounding, skimming.
For what, he cudna understan.
" What's a' the hurry, father," cries he,
" See ye the boggle o' the moor? "
But the parent never spies he.
Nor yet heard him, we are sure.
The boy, thus frightened wi' his father,
Flang awa the mid-day chack ;
And down the brae, amang the heather.
Followed him what he could crack.
At last the body, sairly scared
Got within his castle gate ;
He dash'd it too, and had it barred.
Quaking at an unco rate.
**Gude preserve us, my dear Sawners,
** What in a' the warl is wrang ; "
(Quo' the wife) than Stan's and won'ers
Wi' a wrinkled craig fu' lang.
He took himscll a skilt o' water,
Pech'd and drank, and pech'd again ;
Than tell'd his family a' the matter,
How he was sae nearlv slain.
ADD ADD
At length his restless pulse mair queem grew,
He'd tae bed and tak a nap ;
His kind Lucky glad did seem now,
And wi' the cuiting him did hap.
Through the neighbours ran the story,
Ilk ane trimmled that did hear ;
Aroun' the shielin, on the morrow.
Shepherds armed did appear.
Some had whups and some had cudgells,
A* had tykes wad M'orry fast ;
Some had meikle heather budjells.
To blaze and throw the de'ils aghast.
An Irish lad frae county Derry,
Brag'd that he'd do this and that ;
By St. Patrick, swore he merry,
** Adders will not harm a Pat."
Sawners, laith to be the leader
O' the daring armed squad,
Paddy choose to be its header,
Let the sport be good or bad.
Soon aroun' the awfu centre
Circled the crew wi' speed ;
Close beside it ane did venture,
And beheld the Adder-bead.
He click 'd it up, and in his bosom
Clap'd the bonny freckled gem.
Crying — ** It will deck my blossom,"
Lovely flower o' sappie stem.
Whilk was Sawnies' bonny daughter,
Wi' her merry een sae gleg ;
Lang the lad had wooing sought her,
Nee'r refused him darling Meg.
Collies' thrang about were snuffing
The awfu game cud no be seen ;
At length, out wampuzd three loud fuffing.
Rough and strong wi' blazing ee'n.
Now an unco kauch and hurry
Mang the bravoes did begin ;
Whups did smak and Collies' worry
Down the moor did Paddy rin.
Was ere it thought the son of Erin
Wad been the first to turn and flee,
But na matter, without fearin,
Gallovidians stood the spree.
8 ADD ADD
And o*ercam the hules completely.
Adders killed they nine or ten ;
Cl'w'ar'd the moor o' vermin neatly,
Fire made them quickly sten.
He wha found the bead swunged monniest,
A gallant handsome younker he ;
His sweetheart was amang the bonniest
Maidens ever man did see.
By a ribbon he suspended
Roun' her bonny neck wi' speed.
The what he frae the serpents rended.
The amber shining Adder-bead.
Soon the blythesome pair war marrieil,
Pretty damsels did they breed ;
And the prettiest always wcared
The hinnie spreckled Adder-bead.
Sae when we meet in Gallowa
A fair-haird lass wi' cheeks fu' red,
We say she's bonny — ay, and braw,
Weel wordy o' an Adder-bead.
God bless them a', exclaims the poet,
May they lack o' lads ne'er dread.
And mony hae, and yet not know it,
Title for an Adder- bead.
This is a very silly Poem, but given here merely because it
treats of that mystic subject the Adder-bead.
Adder o* Baldoon. — Amongst the many traditions of
Galloway, appears one, entitled the Adder d Baldoon^
the foundation of which is, that a reptile of enormous
size was killed about sixty years ago, on the fertile hawtns
of Baldoon, near Wigtown ; it measured somewhere
about eight or nine feet in length, and in thickness that
of a man's arm. A shepherd traced it out one dewy
morning, by the path it had left on the wet grass, and his
dog having come up on it beyond a dyke, a dreadful con-
flict ensued between Collie and our Boa Constrictor ; the
strong 7)'/r, however, succeeded in worrying the huge
monster, but not until the serpent had stung him so that he
died next morning. The herd himself was so panic struck
with the scene, that he was never like himscll again ; and
died soon aftenvards ; poor fellow, he fancied that it was an
ADD ADD 9
Hurchon that Rover had fallen in with at first — little did he
expect it was an Adder, and one of such magnitude. Such
seems to be nearly the true part of the tale. The stuffed
skin of it is yet to be seen, I am told, in some gentleman's
museum in that part of the Country. Warm imaginations
have made a good deal of the tale though. They give it
wings and claws, and finishes a dragon, which was as thick
as a corn sack fu; so the whole becomes good food for
bairnics to take during a Forenicht.
Adder's Aith. — What follows is an Adder's Oath —
** I hae made a vow — and I'll keep it true,
** That I'll never stang man, through gude sheep's woo."
So it may well keep it, for it cannot break it The Adder
cannot pour its venom into a wound made by its fangs,
through any thing woollen ; the wool brushes away the virus;
There is some invention in this Aith^ ascribed to the viper.
It is in vain to take the oath of a man, for instance, who is
base, poisonous, and of a reptile nature, for he will break all
oaths, and sting as before ; but when he is sworn from
harming any thing that is not in his power to harm, whether
the oath be off or on ; then all's well.
Adder Sloughs. — The outer skins Adders moult at certain
periods ; whether annual or no is not yet discovered ;
they are very common on lands infested by those reptiles.
Adder Stangs. — The peasantry in general think, that the
tongue of the viper is its sting ; as it comes nearer to
their idea of a sting, from its similitude to that of insects ;
but it is two large projecting teeth in the upper jaw
which do the devilry-, called fangs ; they are rooted in
bags of poison, and when the serpent strikes them into
any thing, they are pushed back on the same bags, which
squeezes the venom out of the valves, to flow down the
conducting teeth into the wound ; though this be all
lo ADD AIR
known to some, many argue in favour of the tongue ; that
it has witters on it like d^fishhuiky and as blue as the main
spring d a watch,
Adist. — The opposite of ayout. The one is on the nearest
side of any thing, the other the reverse. An old riddle
respecting the nettU runs this way —
** Heg Beg adist the dyke — and Heg Beg ayout the dyke —
" Gif ye touch H^ Beg — Heg Beg — will gar ye byke."
Aggie, — A name for Agnes.
Aglee. — Not direct, off at a side ; when the target is missed
at shootings by a marksman, he is said to have shot aglee.
Those, too, who follow what nature never intended them to
follow, are said to guide the genius Aglee,
Ahin — Behind. The same with Ahint.
AiKS o' KiRKCONNEL. — A celebrated haunt for the fox in
Galloway.
AiN — Own. Ainselly ownself.
Air — Oar. Also for, early.
Airnin' Claise. — The art of smoothing clothes with a warm
iron.
Airns o' a Pleuch. — Those implements of iron which belong
to a plough, and which have to be repaired frequently
at smiddies during the ploughing season. What a conse-
quence ploughmen assume sometimes when they meet at
forges — giving directions to Vulcan how they want their
aims set — how the couter must hang to the sock — how the
beam and head agree — if land be scanty or plenty, and what
not — to plough as ein as a die — and put a skin on the furr
as sleek as a salmon,
AiRT — To encourage devilry. Thus we say of those who puff
up others to fight, that they are airters of the savage broil ;
the word is never used in the other sense — to incite to
laudable actions — we never hear of any airted on to read the
AIR ALI II
bible for instance — but boys are said to airt on tykes to
collt€shangU ilk ithtr. This word airt is no way connected,
in my opinion, with the other airt^ wWch refers to the
compass.
Airt o* the Clicky. — When a pilgrim at any time gets
bewildered, he poises his staff perpendicular on the way,
then leaves it to itself, and on whatever direction it falls,
that he pursues; and this little trait of superstition is
termed the Airt d tJie Clicky — the direction of the staff.
And townsmen, when they mean to take a trip into the
country for pleasure, and are quite careless to what part
of it they wend their way, this they decide sometimes in
the same way — the fallen stick determines the course to
be pursued; and often as much amusement is found this
way, as if the chart had been pricked out But there
are few buridan asses which will starve between bundles
of hay, not knowing which to turn to — so those generally,
who seek direction from the staff, mostly cause it to gravi-
tate toward the place they have a secret inclination to go to.
As in the auld sang of " Jock Bumie " —
Ein on en' he pais'd his rung, then
Watch'd the airt its head did fa',
Whilk was east he lap and sung then,
For there is dear bade — Meg Macraw.
AiRTS o* THE Lift. — ^The points of the compass.
AiSLERWARK. — Masonic work, with hewn stones.
AiZLETEETH. — ^Thc doublc teeth — the grinders.
Aleck — Alexander, the man's name, the same with Sawnders,
Sawny, &c
Alicreesh — Spanish licorice, made of the refuse of sugar.
Is made up in black rolls, about a foot in length, and sold
in the grocers' shops; it is much used in breweries; by
people troubled with the cough, and by those who have
been in the habit of chewing tobacco. This singular
term I have given for it, as used by the greater part of
12 ALL ALL
the natives of Scotland, comes from the ancient word ali^
a compound, and crees/i, grease. Rustic lovers tell other
whiles, that they are as sweet as Alicreesh. In truth, lovers
are oft at a loss to find sweet enough comparisons for
their darlings : a fellow once would write a letter to the
dictation of a lover, and asking, " what he'd break off
with," the poor wretch, with the burning heart, replied —
" Say first, * Tam ' — and in big letters — * My dearest^
dearest HainiesuckieJ^
Allan-Hawks — A sea-fowl with very small wings, common
to be met with on the shores of Britain; its colour is
black, all but on the breast, there it is white. I wonder
how Edwards, Willoughby, and others, who have treated
of British Birds, have missed this one in their ornithologies.
It is similar to the puffin in size, but it cannot fly ; often
after storms they are found driven in dead upon shores;
whether it is that the storms so agitate the deep, that
they deprive them of food, and so they famish amid the
waves, or whether by diving on surfy shores they are dashed
against the rocks, is not yet known ; nor can it be conjec-
tured how they come to have the name of Allan-Hawks.
Allan Kinnigham, the poet — Allan Cunningham, Esq., one
of the truest poets, and best of men, Scotland has ever
given birth to. He was born and bred in Nithsdale, but
the greater part of his father's family are Gallovidians,
and lived long near the village of Kilpatrick. His father
was gifted with the rare talent of a poet too, to a certain
degree, and wrote many good little things for a magazine,
which was published in Dumfries about sixty years ago,
by Jackson, printer there; he was an East Lothian man,
but the ancestors of the family are found to have belonged
to that third division of Ayrshire called Cunningham ; they
had been there honest millers time out of mind, but took
up arms in defence of their dear country when Oliver
ALL ALL 13
Cromwell invaded Scotland. The worthy subject of my
present little sketch, began to show symptoms of the
poet very early in life ; he became extremely fond of
books, and listened always with a greedy ear to the tales
of other days; and the singing of wild ancient ballads,
the feeling old cronoch of these thrilled with extacy through
his heart ; while the charming rural scenery on the banks
of the Nith quickened the whole, and winged the ima-
gination for soaring high in the poetic firmament. As to
receiving education at school, that was as scanty with him
as it ever was with either Burns or the Ettrick Shepherd. To
men of strong genius, a school is not worth a farthing, a
school rather does them more harm than good, unless the
domiitic allows them to learn whatever they please according
to their taste ; but the moment they are obliged to alter their
course, from that time they are not a guiding a right. For
all, where find we a better scholar than Bums, or one to match
Cunningham ; the memories of such men let nothing slip they
have once grasped, and they know more of a book by giving
it a careless glance, than others do by reading it three times
through with double milled specks on their noses.
Until our bard came to be about fifteen years of age he
wrote not on paper any of his little tender aspirations,
but from this time he began now and then to try his hand,
and a happy sight to him was a few verses in the corner of
a Dumfries newspaper; he even went so far as to try to
have an insertion in a London Magazine ; while thus the
days of his boyhood glided away in song making, and
labouring at his trade of a mason, Mr. Robert Cromek
came into Galloway a legend gathering, and having soon
found out our wonderful young bard, they wandered to-
gether through all the fairy haunts and warlock glens of
the country ; and having obtained a wallet-full of very
strange matter, Cromek set off with the bag and the nails
to London. Mr. Cunningham was invited to follow, and
14 ALL ALL
aid the publication of the work, which was the " Nithsdale
and Galloway song ; " the whole of which almost is the work
of our poet; and there he truly shines a poet indeed.
What a quantity of pure poetry is in that book. The
Mermaid d Galloway — The Lord's Marie — Sh^s gatu to
dwallin Heaven — The Lass d Preston Mill — My ain Coun-
tries and many other songs in it, are perfectly exquisite,
the ancient-like mould in which they are cast, their strong
originality and feeling natural touches — charm every Scotch
mind, while the gentle melancholy that tinges them all,
finishes them off in a manner so beautiful, that when we
read them we neither think ourselves nor this earth, such
gross things as they be, but we have entered, or about to
enter, some kind of elysium. After the publication of
that book, in which he shines so gloriously, he became a
constant writer in a London newspaper; but something
going wrong in the management of this paper, he laid
down his pen like a true philosopher, and stood by his
trade of the hammer. But a man of great merit, honesty,
and industry, will be taken by the hand, so our bard
received a situation under the celebrated sculptor, Mr.
Chantry ; and this situation he yet holds, beloved by his
master and by all who have the pleasure of knowing him.
For Mr. Cunningham is not only a poet and an enthusiast
about poets and poetry, of the very first kind, but he is
also a man extremely cheerful in society, kind every
where, and liberal to the last degree; he is one of
those few men who conduct themselves in such a manner
that we do not see any of their faults; he is open and
free, hides nothing, dashes on — a Scotchman every inch ;
we see Caledonia in him; in every look, in every move,
he makes : he gives his native language its truest swing ;
the words flow from him with the greatest ease, and with
a manly pith. Sometime ago Blackwood, the Edinburgh
bookseller, would have him to become a writer to his
ALL ALL 15
magazine ; he did so, and produced therein " Mark Mac-
crabbin, the Cameronian," a Very able and singular pro-
duction; but some misunderstanding taking place between
that bookseller and him, he withdrew his valuable pen,
and wrote for a London magazine; the articles inserted
there he has since taken out and published in two volumes,
the tales of which are very wild, poetical and original.
Also lately he has published a drama, named " Sir Mar-
maduke Maxwell," full of passion and poetry ; and a wild
legend, termed " Richard Faulder ; " these have been highly
praised, even the " great unknown " — the Laird of Ab-
botsford — hath publicly lauded both them and their
author. At present he is preparing two volumes of Scotch
Songs for the press ; and as far as I am aware has dipped
deeper into the nature and worth of these songs than any
writer hath yet done. Cunningham beats up game in a
country, different from that of either Burns or Hogg ; he is
not such a mannerest as the first, nor such a fairy man as
the last ; his melancholy is of a solemn, sombre cast, not
like Bums, flaming in the vortex of passion ; nor like Hogg,
dancing lightly and wildly round the halos of the moon ;
he has a place between them — a place untouched and
unpolluted, for such a situation, a religious cast of a rare
kind was necessary, and this Mr. Cunningham has in an
eminent degree ; it is a poetical religion, felt by some of
the covenanters when they assemble on the wild breckany
brae^ beneath the blue canopy on a Sabbath morning.
To conclude, though I may add to the biography of
him, that he has been married now to a worthy, pleas-
ant woman these several years, firom Galloway, and
they have a good many hairnies ; that he himself is a strong,
hardy man, above six feet in height, swarthy visage, with
pleasant features, his eyes and eye-brows bespeak great
intellect ; with all men of genius of the day he is intimate,
with Sir Walter Scott, Wordsworth, Wilkie, Irving, &c.
1 6 ALL ALL
and that they all are pleased with the friendship of
Cunningham.
So, therefore, be my thoughts briefly stated respecting
this gifted individual. If I have said anything wrong, I
shall be sorry — if I have said too much in his favour, dien
I am happy — for to say too much to his praise is a thing
impossible; he is a subject that would not disgrace the
best, the strongest pen that ever was wielded, and he who
thinks I am a flatterer knows nothing of the character of
Mactaggart.
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.
Yestreen in Fame's splendid ha'
Was held a festival,
Apollo he was in the chair,
Amid his votaries all.
When the claith was furl'd, the god he raise
Within his fist a dram,
And sang *' A bumper toast," my friends,
*Tis Allan Cunningham.
Dear Allan, thus continued he,
My Allan frae the Nith,
He is ray charming bard for sang,
His muse is pangd wi' pith.
Whan fancy's flood-gates he unlocks
Forth gushes sic a dam,
As carries with it every heart,
Rare Allan Cunningham.
He is na like some I cud name,
W^ha wordy drive alang.
And clink awa for clinkings sake
Thout feeling what is sang.
Mere Gomeralls, manufactory bards.
Their sangs are all a sham.
They want the touch — the thrill — the glow,
O' Allan Cunningham.
Bards maun be bred in rural world,
There they maun be the child.
There wade in bums, and clamber hills.
And listen stories wild.
See nature in a million fonns.
While she their noddles cram.
With what will burst upon a day
Like Allan Cunningham.
ALL ALL 17
Ay they maun doze on sunny braes,
And happy dream awa.
Ay likewise ken what winter is,
And his fell blasts o' sna ;
While through the curious warle o* man.
They dance about ram-stam.
And queer poetic secrets gain,
Like Allan Cunningham.
And there's a jade that bards maun ken,
Ay be acquainted deep.
Her name it Melancholy is,
She baith can laugh and weep ;
Can clean owreset the senses a.
She flings them in a dwam.
Her potent arm is brawly kend,
By Allan Cunningham.
My heart was hurt wi* Scotlan's wae.
About the loss o* Bums,
For wha cud stap their lugs ava.
Whan sic a nation mourns ;
I order'd Scotia's Genius then,
To forward bring her caum,
Sae in her mint she tniely cast
My Allan Cunningham.
Apollo ended, and the shouts
Of joy that sounded there,
Tremendous were, the hall it shook
With bravo ! every where ;
Then music rang, and seas of wine
The glorious party swam,
And oft again the toast went round,
To Allan Cunningham.
Allicomgreenzie. — A little amusing game played by young
girls at country schools. They form themselves into a
circle, faces towards the centre ; one goes round on the
outside with a cap, saying, while so doing —
" I got a letter from my love,
** And by the way I drop'd it — I drop*d it."
Then she lets the cap fall behind some one, the which
seeing, takes it up and runs after the other in order to
catch her; but she eludes her as well as possible, by
crossing the circle frequently, and the follower must ex-
actly follow her steps; if she fails doing this, she must
stop, and stand in the circle, face out all the game after-
B
i8 ALL AND
wards ; if she succeed in catching the one, the one caught
must so stand, and the other take up the cap and go round
as before.
Allicompain. — Enula Campana, the medical plant; the
Elecampain of materia medica ; truely the root is a useful
thing in medicine, but my famous " Yirbwives " which shall
afterwards be spoken of, think it an antidote almost against
every distemper that inflicts either body or mind; so it
is common in many rural gardens ; beside it, is generally
set a sun-dial, and the rustics are often seen wondering
at the two wonders, a thing poetic to see. I have heard
two verses of an old song on this herb —
ALLICOMPAIN.
0 ! my pow again is free frae pain,
1 am like mysell again,
For twall hours I hae lain
Upon my Allicompain O !
Whan howstin made me unco* sair,
Whan my poor breast wad rack and rair,
I drank the broe — it haled me fair,
The broe o' Allicompain O !
Allomtree. — The elm tree. The juice of the bark of this tree
is extracted by boiling it, and applied to sprained limbs.
Amaist. — ^Almost.
Amang Hans — Amongst hands. Little jobs are sometimes
done amang hans ; that is to say, they are done without, in
any shape retarding the large job.
Amaton. — ^A thin boney person — an automaton.
'An — Used frequently for t/ian — then.
An — a. "I'll lae thee Jean for gude and a" — means, "Til
leave thee Jean for good and all."
Anes-erran — One errand, for the one purpose. I came to
see ye anes-erran; means, I had no other errand than to
come and see you.
Andie — The man's name Andrew.
AN^R AN'R 19
An'ro Gemmle — I cannot say, neither can I find any who
can, whether this famous Andrew, this notable mendicant,
or Gabcrluftzie-man, was a native of any of the parishes
of the South or no ; be that as it may, however, sure it is,
that he made them one of his favorite begging tracks, and
was generally to be found in some " neuk o* Gallowa or
anither."
He was a strong tail Carie, and had served in the army
in the capacity of a dragoon ; he was always called " The
King of the Beggars," as well he might, for he not only
begged himself, but had numbers of beggar wives who
ran the country and begged for him; he supplied them
with "mealpowks," appointing always on Monday morn-
ings, when they "broke off" the "howf," they should
meet at next Saturday night, and she who brought him
the most meal, became his favourite sultanna for that time,
turning off those who made small returns, and taking the
PoTvks from them.
He was of a " crazed nature^' like every old soldier who
hath seen much blood, and when any little thing curled
his temper, he became a madman complete ; he boasted
of his prowess at the fireside game of " danis^^ alias drafts^
and whenever his antagonist was like to be too deep for
him, he took the ^^ men^' of the ^^ brod'^ and dashed them
in the fire with a vengeance. He was very fond too of
playing off little jaix d'esprits of his own formation.
Once, as a priest was going to his church on the Sabbath
day to hold forth, he espied An'ro on the road a little
before him, seemingly in the most profound meditation,
pondering deeply with " leaden eye that loves the ground,"
something lying in the way, and stepping seriously round
it The clergyman came up, and seeing the object of his
wondrous gaze, said, "Well, An'ro, what's this that seems
to be puzzling you so ? for my part I see nothing but a
horse-shoe on the road." " Dear me, returned the Gaber-
20 AXK ARK
lunzie, with uplifted hands, what disna that lair do, I hae
glo^Td at that shoe now the best part o' hauf an hour, and
deil take me gif I cud say whether it was a horse-shoe or a
mare-shoe/* This is Walter Scott's — Eddie Ochiltree —
only he was not a " Bluegown."
Anklet — The ankle.
Anordinar — Extraordinar)'.
Anton — Name for the man's name Antonv.
Antrum — The name in some parts of the country for that
repast taken in the evening called four /loms, anciently
termed eenshattks. This Antrum comes from the old
French, a den or cave, now Antrum time is den time,
then some animals go to their dens; the sun also is
said to sink to his den or cave. Glass, in one of his
£ongs, has lovers going out at Antrum time to court, and
so forth.
Anving or Ananving — Owing.
Apen Quevs — Young cows ; those who have not had calves.
Aplochs — Remnants of any thing. Some few years ago a
field of com could not be shorn, nor a meadow mowed,
without parts of them being left in corners uncut, these
were called Aplochs ; they were left for the benefit of the
warlock race, so as to keep their favour, but farmers have
long ago defied all beings of the sort to do their worst ;
Aplochs now are vanished away.
Appetie — Appetite. Appetezed, having an appetite.
Ardwell — A ridge of rocks lying between two that are larger.
Ark o' the Cluds — or Noah's Ark. The various forms
the clouds assume in different seasons, are very attractive to
the eye of man ; that one mentioned in scripture, which
rose out of the sea like a man's hand, soon changed its
shape. The famous Dean Swift thought he would be a
clever fellow if he could tell what shape a cloud would
ARK ARK 21
be in when it set in the east, by seeing it rise in the west;
ere they cross the canopy of heaven, they fling themselves
into numberless figures, whiles they are one thing whiles
another, and whiles " very like a whale," as Shakespeare
says. But there is no conglomeration of the clouds, no
figure they assume and hold by longer without changing,
than this called the ark^ or Noah's arky a description of
its appearance I shall attempt to give. In the winter
season (for the ark is not common in any other), when
the sky is clear and weather frosty, curious light grey
clouds in the shape of ribs will oft arise from a point in
the horizon, and stretch over the sky to its opposite on
the other side ; these cloudy ribs narrow in bulk towards
the horizon, and are at the widest right over our heads, or
in the zenith. " If great things can be compared to
small," as Milton says, I would liken this figure of the
clouds to the half of a cocoa-nut shell split lengthways,
or a Non^'ay yawl, in this form will it appear for a day
together, and even longer ; what is singular too we have
no half arksy the one half never sinks beneath the horizon
and leaves the other half above ; we have the scene always
in perfection, or we have it not at all ; we have it as if it
was calculated to appear in our latitude and longitude, and
in no nations else ; for it begins to form, comes to perfec-
tion, and vanishes away, all in our canopy; we may therefore
say there are arks for every country.
When seen in frosty weather, as it generally is, ivathenvise
fowk prognosticate a thaw instantly, attended wi* an auffu
spaUy to the gnawing grief of the keen veteran curler, who
cries out yonders the cttrse that draiuns the chariiestane, and
cuts the head and feet frac bonspiels. To be short, the ark
is a great thaw sign, and brings commonly with it enough of
water. It is from its appearing somewhat in the form of a
boat, and from its being attended by a deluge, that it has
been termed the ark.
22 ARS ATE
Arset — Backwards. Inclining to go astern ; the way of a
swine.
Arslins — The same as above.
AscHET. — The king of the trencher tribe. Some time ago
they were made of pewter, a mixture metal of lead and
tin, and took the lead as they do yet of all the other plates
on the dresser, and stood on the loftiest skelf like so many
shields. Ashets seem to have been the first things of lame
ware, alias porcelain, that have been made, as about old
camps, castles, &c., pieces of them are frequently dug up,
and nothing else of earthen ware, if we except urns ; and
these specimens seem to say the ashds have been stamped
and highly ornamented.
Asks — Newts. Animals of the lizard species, they are
always considered to have poison somewhere about their
hinnerliths,
AsKLENT — Aslant Out at a side.
Ass — ^Ashes.
AssBACKET — Ashbucket.
Ata'— At all.
Ateen — at evening. At night.
Aten out o' Ply. — Some animals are said to be aten out
d ply when they are extremely lean in flesh, although they
have been taking a great deal of food. Thus few gour-
mands are very fat, they eat themselves out of ply ; that
is to say, over-do themselves with eating. Crows in
harvest are very light in body, because they have too much
food; and in dead of winter, when it is not so, they are
fat ; eating much more than enough to satisfy nature is an
abominable thing — far rather be a drunkard than a glutton,
the latter is the most beastial of the two. To see a person
sitting down to dinner, and clearing the table before him, is
damnable ; let such brutes be tossed out of the window.
ATE AUL 23
Atestrae— Oatenstraw.
AucHEN — A field, in the Saxon. Thus, auchen flower^ field of
flowers.
AucHLATE — An old measure. Two were a peck; one, a
stone of meal nearly ; but these may be much more or less
according to the craft of the measurer.
AuLD — Old.
AuLD Boy. — A name for the devil; or one with devilish
habits is called an Auld Boy,
AuLD EVER MORE IN A PowK. — The wholc of the works of
the olden time in a bag; when such would be the case,
it is fancied that much stir and commotion would take
place in the same bag. So when any one is driving on, and
never looking behind, nor to the right or left, it is said he is
then going on like Auld ever more in a potvk,
Auld-Farrent. — Cunning beyond years.
Auld Huntsman — A curious Song.
O ! heard ye o* the Auld Huntsman
Wha dec'd upon Bengaim,
Tak pity on the Auld Huntsman,
And ay big up his cairn ;
For ance a day — we weel may say
A clever cheel was he,
Nane was his match, the tod to catch.
In a* the moor countree.
For wha cud rin wi* the Auld Huntsman ?
Wha cud keep up wi' him ?
O ! but he had a brisket wide,
And tight in lith and lim ;
How he cud scour out owre a moor,
And lae us a' ahin,
WhaneVe to blaw — we stood ava.
Than he wad faster rin.
He keep'd ay the dogs in sight,
And airted on the chase,
He maistly ay wan in tae death —
The glory o' the race ;
While tar awa — a mile or twa.
Us followers wad hae been
O'wrecome wi' heat, a' in a sweat,
Yet pechin after keen.
24 AUL AUL
For him todlowrie gat iia rest
In bonny Gallowa,
Our geese and gaizlins met na scaith,
Our cocks did crousely era' ;
He tous'd the deil roun Criffle-screel,
And owre the Caimsmuirs three,
Down heuchs and craigs — and glens and hags.
As fast as he cud flee.
Nae place but Cassleinaddies yird.
Defied the Auld Huntsman,
But there slec foxie laugh'd at him.
And scorn *d his deepest plan ;
For in that keep fu* soun* he'd sleep,
Tho' terriers roun sud yelp,
Ne'er start wad he — to whusk and flee,
And owTe the clints gae skelp.
But age cam on the Auld Huntsman,
His marrow-banes ran dry.
The stitches and the rheumatiz,
Wi* pain whiles made him cry ;
His tyices wore few, and wama true
Moormen forsook him too.
His voice cud no mak hauf a noise
To start the talliehoo.
Than poverty beset him sair,
Wi' his clauts o' cauld aim,
Sae his twa staves he taks ae day
And hirples up Bengaim ;
He sat him do^^'n, and glower'd roun'
On heach an' laich countrce,
Afar awa by Barrlocka,
And south by Barrcheskeo.
Now sigh'd wi' grief the Auld Huntsman,
Than back himsell he'd throw,
The merry scenes o' Auld Langsyne
Now brought upon him woe ;
His fits, his faints — his sair complaints,
Nae langer cud he dree,
Himsell he laid within his plaid,
And wi' a groan did dee.
Neist day the shepherds on the hill.
The Auld Huntsman they foun*,
Wi' his auld hat drawn owre his e'en,
Stiff streekit on the grun ;
Roun' him the nowt did snuff and rowt.
Sad was the sight to see.
His corpse did crave, frae them a grave,
Sae they in mools laid he.
/
f
AUL AUL 25
Gane, gane, then is the Auld Huntsman
To his lang hame he 's gane,
He 's buried on Bengaim sae hie.
And on his wyme 's a stane :
The tod slee boy may howl wi' joy,
For his fell fae 's awa ;
And now and than for the Auld Huntsman
A tear we may let fa\
Auld Millhaw — An old man of the name of Sproat. He
lived at a place called Millha, in the parish of Borgue ; and
so his name became Auld Millha, He was a great railer
against modem manners, and a praiser of the days of his
youth. As a specimen of his mind, I give here the
" Lamentations o* Auld Millha."
" Dear me, but fourscore years mak an unco odds o' the
times, and that's about as lang as I can min' ought now.
Mony an up and down in the warl has haen Auld Millha,
and there's a queer something comes owre him whan he
claps his auld bum down on the mossaik by the cheek o'
the chaumer door, and begins to think awee and glowre
back. There's no a human cratur drawing the wun o'
life now that I ken'd in my young days; they're a' i'the
mools lang syne ; the last ane wha I min' o' that waded
about i'the bums wi me whan a boy, and neiv'd beardocks,
was Wullie Coskery, and he's gane to his lang hame aboon
hauf a dizzen year sin. Wullie was ay but a pieferin useless
body a' the days o' him, and ken'd about little but how
to mak beeskeps, and wattle saugh creels — then he wad
hae glaiber'd about the splittin o' breers for the hale o' a
lang forenicht i'the wunter time, without wearyin. Wattie
Bennoch was gane afore him. Wattie and me had mony
a day o't thegether, but he was ane clever chiel, and as
sharp as a preen. We gaed awa ance — it's langsinsyne
now — wi a wheen nowt, tae South o' Englan, and as we
war gaen by a bit on the road they ca'd (let me think),
ay, they ca'd, now when it comes cross me, Templesorby,
out came a meikle bill-dog frae a tannaree, and was begin-
26 AUL — AUL
ning to fley our drove, when Wattie drew his gude hazle
rung frae neath his coat-tail, and hit him a whap wi't
aneath the lug, till goth he gaed heels owre gowdy with-
out a bough. But some o* the town-folks gat scent o't, and
out they cam bizzin like bees, to ding Wattie and me to the
deil. I laid on, and sae did he, till some o* us a* hech'd
again. We gat out amang them tho* at last wi sair banes ;
but gin we hadna been a pair o' gye Strang rouchtous, we
wad hae lain like the thick-nosed collytyke that day.
"Dear me, what an unco alteration there is now — that
auld scrunted hawthorn there afore me, adist the dyke
whare the flecket pyets charkin on, and me, are about
an age, coming fast up or sliding down the figures 9 and the
o. Folk are no now ava as the war langsyne; they're
puir shilpet craturs the best o' them. I hae seen the day
I wad hae pulled ony o*m alf their doups at the sweertree.
Auld Millha laments to see them. I cud hae shorn ance
too man. O ! I cud hae sweeped it down, spread mysell
laigh on the rigg, and gaen up the Ian' scrieven. There
wama mony i'the days cud hae kemped wi Auld Millha.
My theebanes war then like milltimmers, and my fingers
like dragtaes. O I I cud hae open'd out an awsome brisket;
I was fit for baith sock and sythe ; rid han'd, nae wark cam
wrang to me.
" O I for the days again whan I was young. I kenna
what the cheels about twenty are gude for now ava ; they
want the heart someway athegether ; they canna tak ae dram
o* liquor now, without haeing as mony mimins and prieins to
gang through as if they war a* born gentry. Langsyne I hae
kend Tam Ma'min and me cowpin o\sTe a dizzen bumpers
o* Strang Holland gin, rare smuggled stuff, down at the
Brighousebay, in the wee while o' a forenicht, and never
giein a kink either owret or aftert.
"It's a pity to see them, a pity faith — the warls fast
degeneratin ; banes now are as frush as the branches o' an
AUL AUL 27
auld daezd plaintree ; the folk hae nae intiramers, as they
were wont to hae, ava.
" Wullawuns and its come to this o^t — Hizzies gaen spangin
and flaiperin about wi white muslin frocks on, wha in my
younger days wad hae been glad o* a piece hame-made stuff,
or drogget, and nae bonnet ava ; whereas they hae bonnets
now co'erd wi gumfloors ; and O it was bonny to see the
yellow-haird lasses coming happin owTe the kirkstyle on a
simmer Sunday, wi that laugh o' luve they gaed in every
look. Than they war sae healthy and rosey in thae days by
what theyre now. There was never a lass but ane, I think,
in my kennin, wha dee'd o' a wastin, and she was ane o*
the name o' Tibbie Mitchell, a bastard bairn o' ane Girzy
Mitchell's, wha wond in the Tannimaws. (The doctors
said it was o* that she dee'd, tho' it was whusherd that it
was wi takin owre heavy drinks o' the sap o' the saving-
tree — to keep a wee scraichin sinner frae seeing the
light o* day.) There was nae tea amang them in thae
days — nane o' that vile spoutroch sae meikle sloated
owre now-a-days — na, na, we had nae jabblin thing like
scaud ava to sipple wi ; but milkporritch, sowings, and
sic like glorious belly-timmer — famous swatroch, man ;
noble stiveron.
** WTian we pang'd our pechans wi sic like, there war nae
asthmas or cruchlins ever heard o' ; we could hae hunted
the fox roun Caimhattie, without a turn'd hair being seen on
our heads, and putted a stane, fifty pun weight I dare say,
near hauf a mile ; ane wad hae thought . The young
lasses get nae men now sic as the are either, as they gat
langsyne ; deil a hizzy, gin she had leuked ony think Hke
marryin ava, but wad hae got somebody, or she wan to
twenty; but now they gae by thratty, and mony a ane
bids fareweel to matrimony, and curses the men athe-
gether, on the borders o' forty. Sad wark, man —
Hoch anee.
28 AUL - AUL
" Hechhowhum, granes auld Millha by the cheek o' the
caumer-door ; on the bink o* auld mossaik, and what's
gaen to come o* the parish of Borgue ava, my gude auld
native parish ; the Browns and the Sproats are a weedin
awa ; they hae been a taking gye thrang o*late, to the lane
kirk-yard down on the shore.
" A new set o* folk is coming about me athegether now,
wha talk about plowin and middinmakin ; gin they be
allowed to come in amang us as they hae been, we'll be
berried out o' house and ha in a crack, for they say they
can afford sic rents for the lairds, and can manage a
grun sae and sae. I dinna like them ava : I wuss they
wad a gae wa the road they cam — awa by the Dinscore
or Mochrum — and fash us douce bodies nae mair i*i* their
glaiberin nonsense .
" I hae seen the days whan there war nae carts wi' wheels
in a* the parish, nor harrows wi' aim teeth, but carrs and
harrows wi* teeth o' whunroots, and yet we did full weel
for a' ; had ay rowth to eat and drink and smiok amang o'
the best of things. Them wi' their thrashing machines,
aimpleuchs, and turnipbarrows, mere falderaloes, ripin up a'
the bits o' green hoams, and forcing wheat to grow whar Pro-
vidence never intended it, and a' for the lairds, the tennant
bodies are never a babee the richer o't ; awa wi* yer nice
agriculture, yer game laws, and yer Madeira wines — Borgue
disna lang for a sight o' them — Howt's no .
** Awa wi* yer readin priest, yer I^tin dominies, yer
rooms spread wi' carpets, yer fallow fiels, and yer fenders ;
and let me hear a cheel skelpin a sermon affloof, anither
leamin the bairns the rule o* three and plain arithmetic ; the
bare sleek yird I hae mony a time shook my shanks on —
fiels to plow just as my father plow'd, and nae fenders to
hinder the aizles frae spangin out, but lads and lasses,
bare-fitted and bare-legged, wedged thick roun the bonn)'
ingle — .
AUL AUL 29
" Never turn, gentle Borgue, or thou'llt gang a* to the
bumwhush ; stick by the creed o' thy forefathers, never
laugh at the gude auld law .
" Dear me, but it makes my heart sair — to see things
chynged and chyngin sae far frae their ancient wont.
There's nae courtin gaen on now amang the bumbraes, the
glens, and aneath the soughin hawthorns — na, na — the prim-
rose, the bludifinger, and the crawtae grow unsqueez'd and
unlooked at ; the mavis and the yellow-nebed blackburd, let
them sing now as they will, they are never heard. How*t
tow*t, there can be nae meetings now on a snug bam mow to
pass a night. Burnies too maun a rin anither gate now frae
what natur intended ; lochs too are a* drained — wild-ducks
hae nae wallees now to guddle in, ane can hardly get a bit
dub for a chaunlestane rink .
" Hech how, there's nae fun ava now amang the fowk ;
they're a* grown as serious as our auld minister wont to be
at a sacrament ; nae meetings at ithers ingles to sing sangs,
and tell divertin tales ; nae boggles now to be seen about
Hells'-hole and the Ghaistcraft; nae witchwives about the
clench, nor warlocks about the Shellin Hill o' Kirkaners.
How't no — what's the folk guid for ; the Dei'l has crossed
their een with his club, or else Peggy Little, the gillwife,
has broke some charm wi' her rowantree beetle or kirn-
staff .
" Fairies and brownies hae fled Borgue athegither now ;
even a donsy beggarbody, wi' a snug sheepskin-wallet and
pikestaff, is now to be seen. The folk are a drownin
themsells in trackpots and teabroe, fiykin wi' cups and
saucers and peutrin about nothing ; there's no a chiel worth
a doit amang them — but some ane or twa, there be nane
worth a tinkler's tip-pence .
** 0» ! for the days again when I brew'd and sell'd yill at
the Saughligget ; thae war days, but they're gane now, and
Borgue will ne'er see the like o' then: .
30 AUL AUL
" But its foolish in me to lament and fret mysell sae about
things ; short maun may be my time o' the warl now ; soon
shall I be carried heels foremost out o* that auld biggin,
and laid a gude Scotch ell aneath the mools o* the lane
kirk-yard ; my family is a' there afore me, a' but ane, and he's
awa by the Ingies. O that he was aside me now; what
tales wad I no tell him, and sing him scores o* auld sangs,
that maun a' sink aneath the sod wi' auld Millha .
" I'll lift tho', and gae wa intae auld chaumer — read a bit
o' St Luke's worthy sayings — tak a blaw o' the cuttypipe,
and syne hirsle my body into my ain auld warm croovie
o' a bed /'
Auld Mill o' Mochrum. — ^There are few men in Scotland
who are fond of hearing news and curious things, who have
not heard of the Auid mill d Mochrum ; any person who
seems to want something obviously, is said to be like this
mill, for she has a want also, which art could scarcely
supply, which is a back door; now all mills should have
a door of this kind, and because she cannot have one is,
that her back is built against a blue solid rock. Also this
mill is used to fling out the inquisitive ; thus, if a person
be met on the road, and asked at " where going," to the
** auld mill d Mochrum " is frequently the reply ; so the
auld mill o" Mochrum is used in the west the same as the
auld kirk d Dinscore in the east, and makes the forward
blush. **Whar do ye live whan ahame," quoth a country-
man in the Gallwaygate, Glasgow, to another whom he had
just sold an horse, " Ken ye whar the auld kirk d Dinscore
is," was the reply — " ay^' returned the other, " wi t/ian^^
said the next. The poor farmer inquired about the said
auld kirk till he was wearied out, and satisfied that he had
been hoaxed of his horse.
Auld Mortality. — This was a man of the name of
Thomas Paterson, and was born and bred, as I am told.
AUL AUL 31
in the parish of Baulmagie, one of our Galloway parishes ;
there are living yet many hundreds who personally knew
him, of the people of these parts ; he was of this world
before my time of marking any thing ; yet I am acquainted
with some of his relations, particularly with a lovely young
woman, Miss Paterson, his niece ; whether he served a
regular apprenticeship to the stone-cutting or carving
trade, or took it up at his "own hand," as the saying is,
cannot now be known ; but it would seem the latter way
is nearest the truth, as he never was very dexterous at the
art, his letters are always clumsy and ill-shaped ; frequently
too, the words were divided when the margin of the stone in-
trudes, and even some of his lines are interlined. The honest
" Kintrafowks " are at no loss to tell the " wark o' Tamous
Paterson '* from that of another^s, when they meet with it in
kirk-yards, whether it is on a ^'Throuch or a head-statuJ^
He was a singular enough character, and well deserving
the attention of Sir Walter Scott's mighty genius, and, per-
haps, there is not a finer piece of writing, fraught with every
thing beautiful and charming, in the many darling volumes
written hy that wonderful author, as his description of Auld
Mortality, at the beginning of the " Tales of my Landlord ; "
the potent penman has given that detail of him a melancholy
poetic tinge, which causes the engraver to touch our affec-
tions in a twinkling.
Then he has drawn him almost exactly to the truth ; the
licence he has used with him is small ; just as he says, he
wandered about the country amongst the kirk-yards, with a
little white shelty, cleaning and taking a parental charge of
the martyrs* stones, viz. those martyrs of the covenant whom
Scotland stood by, and saw butchered by a set of lawless
and base courtiers, to her eternal disgrace ! wherever he
found these stones, whether on wild moors or lonely kirk-
yards — the fogg he scoured neatly off them, and renewed
their inscriptions with his chisel.
32 AUL AUL
But this engrossed only a small part of his trade, as he
plied his tools to all who employed him, stopping at night
in any decent farm-house that came in his way, for being
of a religious turn of mind, he was made welcome almost
every where, and kindly treated by the inmates, more pat-
ticularly too by the Hillfowk, for the care he took in pre-
serving .the memories of their glorious brethren ; he seldom
carried a bag or wallet with him, as the writer of the
famous tales says, wherein was his tools for working with ;
no, I am firmly told he had rarely, if ever, such a thing ;
but an old chisel in his pocket, and for a mallet to
strike with, he used a " Whunsiane " for common, picked
up about where he intended to work; these stones are
yet to be found in burial-grounds, hollowed out a good
deal on one side, by striking the head of the carving im-
plement; so to be minute — he often would weep when
labouring on a martyf s stone, the cause of this may be
understood, without it being told And there was a stone
in Kirkandros kirk-yard, in the south of the parish of Borgue,
and is there yet, which he was often beat with to clean, the
inscription so overpowering his feelings by conjuring up
before him the following inhuman truth : —
" In the days of that infernal persecution of the innocent
and independent covenantors^ taylors had the clothes of
both males and females to make among the common folks,
there were no mantua-makers concerned with the rural
natives in these times, and the women had a fashion of
having pieces of lead about different points of their dresses,
to make these points gravitate, in what was then considered
the ban mode ; so the sons of the * thimble ' were obliged
to have always plenty of this metal about them, that they
might go on with their trade, and supply their customers:
"One of these taylors fell unfortunately into the hands
of a party of Grier o* Laggs men, as he was going to one of
his houses to work, and these blood-suckers, finding lead in
AUL AUL 33
the pockets of the poor fellow, they instantly charged him,
that he was going to cast bullets with it.
In vain did the lad deny the charge, and still in vain did
he implore them to mercy ; then and there they bound
a napkin on his eyes, and shot him through the heart.
O ! Hell, you contain no villains greater than these !
But let me cling close to my present subject: — Auld
Mortality liked a dram by a time, like many another honest
man, and often would have come to my grandfather's
house at Conchieton, in the gloaming, pretty glorious ;
and one night, as he was wandering through Annandale,
with his old shelty, he took too much of the " Ovz/wr,"
which " doiter'd " him, and made him lose his way ; and
having wandered on until he and his companion became
quite exhausted, he alighted off the back of his faithful
comrade, for the last time, and betook himself to a quarry-
hole for shelter, and there, with the fatigue and the
'*nappie," he fell asleep — no more to awake in this
world — for a stormy night of sleet came on, and the
cold froze the warm blood in the heart of Auld Mor-
tality ; but his memory shall not perish ; it has got a
famous heazie already ; and should this unvarnished sketch
of mine do any good to it, by way of a test, I shall always
feel happy.
Auld Strength. — The strength of an old man.
Auld Strengths. — Those strong places, in the days of
yore, where parties of men kept themselves secure from
their foes, such as caves, camps, castles, &c. What a
number of these are in the south of Scotland, accounts
of some of the most astonishing will appear by and by
at their proper article.
Auld warl Fairy. — A human being not like this world,
having a strange appearance ; some of the sons of genius
are so called ; when in the country, they haunt out of the
c
34 AUL AVA
way nejiks as auid glens ; they are commonly strangely
clad, with long hair and quick eyes.
AuLD Wife. — A man having much the nature of an old
wife about him.
AuM — Allum.
Aumbry. — A large oblong press or box, which stands on end
in a nook of almost every country kitchen ; it is generally
divided into two apartments, a higher and a lower, with a
broad folding-door to each ; in the heigh aumbry, as the
upper place is called, yJ/z/r/f d bread, or oaten cakes, on their
edges, lie closely packed together for daily use, also the nual
baste, the feather s^vooper, and such things. In the laigh
aumbry, or lower place, bacon, hams, and beef, which have
rcestled long enough in the smoke, barley for the broth, wod
shears for clipping sheep, fining wod kames, and a variety of
other articles, remain huddled together.
Auntie — Aunt.
AuRR — ^The mark of a scar.
AuRRiE o' Kirks. — That space or area down the middle
of churches, between the rows of seats; country people
pay great attention to the manner in which strangers walk
up and down the aiirrie,
AusTRAN Carle — An old man of an austere manner.
Aux — Ask ; incjuire, &c.
AvA — At all.
Aval. — When an animal lies down upon its back, in such
a manner that it cannot bring its feet to bear up its
body, so as to rise again, we say, that animal is m^ai.
Ewes with lamb are often in this state, and must be set
on their feet by the shepherd's aid, if not, they soon be-
come a prey to the corbies and hoodycraws. In an old
Poem on Corbcs , this verse appears —
AVA AYO 35
Whane'er they fin a ewe fac'n aval,
Ilcr trolly bags they do unravel,
The hootlycraws and them will caval,
I And worry owre her ;
The e'en out o' her pow they'll naval.
And sae devour her.
Men, too, whose affairs run wrong, when they cannot help
themselves, but by the help of man, are said to have fdeu
aval. There is a line in a Poem which hits lawyers
amongst the unfortunate —
•* Tho' they croak owre us, as owre avald sheep."
Aval Lan. — Land which has once been broken up by the
plough ; land, as it were, laid down to be cropped ; this
word aval^ as applied to land, seems to be quite con-
nected with the other.
Aver IN — Talking carelessly.
AwMOUS. — An alms ; charity ; generally the /;/ <f the glide
ivife's Iian of oatmeal frae out the four-part dish : old
greedy luckies in ill times — used only to cover their
knuckles, and so cheat many a icaefii body,
Awn'd — Owned. He never a^vn'd me; he never owned
me ; he never seemed to know me.
Awns o* Bear. — The beards of the grain barley ; there
are other kinds of grain which have beards or awns, but
this is the most common.
AwRiGE. — Those little ridges which are made by the plough,
and are so laid one by another, that they cover the seed
when they are harrowed down on it; it is the angular
points, as it were, above the level of a ploughed ridge.
AwsE o* A MiLLWHEEi.. — Those boards fixed on the
periphery of a wheel, to receive the water after it leaves
the trau'se for the purpose of moving machinery.
AwTEALS. — A small kind of teal, little larger than snipes.
Ayont. — Beyond ; there is a place talked of, called the
" back of beyont, where the mare foaled the fiddler."
36 BAA BAC
B.
Baa — A word used in lulling a babe to rest In the old
song of Rocking the cradle, " hushie baa babie lye still "
is a line much used ; it is a very musical word, baa ; I have
heard nurses give it a melancholy cadence, that I have
weeped to hear them. Beggar wives with infants at the
breast know well the value of the word, and can twang it
up on so many mournful keys, that it thrills a good awmous
from the hardest heart
Ba — ^A ball, more commonly used for a soft ball than for
one hard.
Babie — A babe.
Babiecloots — A babe's clothing.
Babbles — What may be considered foolish nonsense, though
they often turn out to be facts, and facts sometimes bab-
bles. When we hear of a bonny lassy, or a virtuous lad
going astray in the paths of rectitude, we exclaim ha7vts
babbles, though we believe in the truth of it at the same
time. Babbles may therefore be said to be nonsense, yet
admitting of doubts, to be truth.
Babbs — That vile luce or slimy matter a razor scrapes off
the face in shaving.
Bach — An ejaculative word, expressive of disgust
Bachles — Old shoes ; also the lumps of snow which adhere
to shoes when walking among snow.
Bachruns — Excrement of oxen, dried in the summer sun ;
they are used, viz. bachruns, by poor people instead of peats
for fuel ; and they even gather them off the autumn green
fields for winter's use ; " mony a gude tale is tauld, and
mony a cutty is made lunt owre the glead o' a bachrun^^
Back-and-Breested — In that Scottish game at cards called
Lent, which is generally played at for money, when one
of the gamblers stands, that is to say, will play, and is
BAG BAG 37
lenUd^ which is, outplayed by those who stood and played
also ; then, if this happen, and the divide too at the same
time, this person is said to be — back and breested,
Backcreels — Baskets made of willows, formed to fit the
human back — ere the invention of " wheel-barrows," these
were used in cleaning byres, stables, what not
Back-door-trot — The diarrhoea; those with the body in
a lax state, are said to have the back-door-trot.
Backen — That space of time between harvest and winter —
the back-end of the year as it were — many a farmer leaves
pieces of work in spring and the summer, to be done in the
backen ; but when that period arrives, they are still left
undone, perhaps till the next wanrtime ; thus, bad jobs are
put off till the last ; nor do these little procrastinations do
much harm for all. Gallovidians love to be contented ; they
are naturally so ; they dislike to be pushed and hurried, and
to make the warle a^ faught. They are never very rich in
money, nor yet very poor ; have enough for the necessaries
of life, even in a civilized state ; enough for the back and
belly, and something of an overplus whiles to help one
another in straits ; so, what more, ye philosophers, I would
ask, is a wanting for the enjoyment of this world ?
Backieburd — The bat ; these half mice — half birds, are
fond of any thing white. On fine evenings, when they
are bickering about, if a white cloth, or a " mutch " be
put on the top of a long pole, they will gather round it,
and rest themselves in the folds thereof.
Back-lick — A back-blow. Gommonly these blows are the
most severe of any.
Back out Owre — Backover.
Back r ans — Backwards.
Backset — A setting-back of any thing, or a something
38 BAG BAI
that retards: thus, wet weather is a "backset" to the
farmer in " the hay and harvest time."
Backside — One of the many names for the seat of honour.
Backspang — Backspring; men not overly honest, too are
said to ** hae mony a backspang about them."
Backstane — A large broad stone, placed behind those
good peat fires which bum on hearths, not in grates.
Such fires are common in the moor country ; and it is no
strange thing to see a wearied " herd," in the winter, taking
a sleep sometimes on the backstane^ as that stone is always
thick enough to be a seat.
Bad— Did bid.
Bade — Stayed ; did not shift
Bae — The bleat of a fat sheep.
Baggie — A person with a big belly.
Baggrell — A young person, of awkward growth ; big-
bellied.
Baillie Days — Those days on which farmers laboured
to their lairds, now partly done away with. Bailly
days were mentioned in tacks, and so many days of bailly
harrowing, so many of baillie peating^ and on so : they
were very troublesome days to farmers, and these bailly
works, I may add, brought kempin to great perfection,
for when the labourers of many farmers met, they be-
haved little better with other than when strange herds
of oxen meet, goring and frothing about who to have the
mastery —
Bains — Bones.
They wha buy beef, buy bancs,
And lliey wha buy Ian, buy stanes.
Old Proverb.
Bairnies — Children.
Bairntimk— The time a woman takes to breed her fa-
mily. Old wives mention always this baimtime with
BAI BAL 39
much reverence; indeed, it is generally the most eventful
period of a female's life, not to be entered into rashly by
them if they thought much ; but young girls are so fonned
by nature, as neither to dread beginning with it, nor to
think any thing of it — Give them a dear " man " — then all
their woes are at an end.
Bairnsplav — Any kind of game or sport more becoming
children to play at, than people grown up.
Baissie, or Baishen — A bason ; a vessel for holding any
thing, commonly meal.
Baith — Both.
Bakeboard — A board to bake oatmeal cakes on.
Bakies, or Baked-peats — Peats baked with the hand ;
not cut with spades.
Balderdash — Nonsense — foolery.
SIR BALDERDASH.
Some twa*r three thousan* years ago,
Ane bastard-bairn somehow
Was got atween a curious pair,
A Gomerall and a Gow.
The bamie like a breckan thrave,
It never took a brash ;
*Twas fed on new kimed butter-milk.
And named Balderdash.
The baimie soon became a man
O' meikle fame and cash,
For whilk his king did title him
The grand Sir Balderdash.
Amang the ladies then fu' gay
He made an unco flash.
And bonny Madam Clashmaclaver
Wan Sir Balderdash.
O I Madam was a blooming wench,
And gabbed night and day ;
A tinkler's curNC she did na care
What she did think or say.
40 BAL BAL
Nac hizzic was a match for her
In clauchan or in town ;
O ! but she liked weel to gab
A dizzcn fallows down.
Which please<I weel Sir Balderdash,
And made him fondly Aether ;
As she gae'd tonmie, and he gae'd tongue.
And baitli gae d tongue th^cther.
And, strange to tell, they seldom ere
Complained that they war weary ;
He to his bosom aft wad squeeze
His sweet enchanting deary.
And saftly whusher in her lug
That he wad never waver ;
But love, to this yirth's latest birl.
His charming Clashmaclaver.
And, strange to tell, it never coold.
They ay war pack wi' ither ;
E*en to this day they blythly look,
And never seem to wither.
Her cheeks yet blush rosieways.
Her breasts seem scarcely wore.
They look fu' fit yet to gie sook
To baimies mony a score.
Though mony a Gow and Gomerall,
Though mony a Goaf and Glumf,
Though mony a Haverall they hac bred.
And mony a famous Sumf.
Sae brave Sir Balder drives about.
And looks fu' sj^ruce and trig ;
The de'il a gouty tae has he,
Nor belly curving big.
And no a hair upon his pow
Seems yet akin to white ;
And a' the tusks ere had his jaws
Can quick as ever bite.
Though nought but twa he ever hatl,
Twa gruesome tusks to snack ;
Twa azle fangs — but clean unfit
The nits o' sense to crack.
The fashions he o' every age
Doth follow to an inch ;
By laws nonsensical he stands,
And frac them wunna flinch.
BAL BAL 41
In Parlimcnt he whiles appxiars.
And tells a lang wund story ;
Sometimes he seems to be a Whig,
At ither times a Tory.
And whiles he'll try a blunnerboar
\Vi* his queer whup to lash,
lie misses him — the cracker hacks,
And nips 8ir Balderdash.
Wi* soldiers he doth seldom ever
Gae to fields to slash,
But pesters ay the warl o* saul.
The blockhead Bauldenlash.
Nor yet wi' sailors, mang the seas,
Will he gae duck and swash ;
He'd rather loll wi' fiddlers,
The mighty Balderdash.
The poets he ca's a' his friends.
And they wha deal in rhyme.
He gies a monthly pension to.
And suppers mony a time.
And priests wha i* the pulpit rant.
And caper on a tub.
At market-crosses, to attract
The ragged hubblebub.
They be his cousin Germans a',
In truth ilk worthy hash
In estimation high is held
By big Sir Balderdash.
And baith himsell and the gude wife
Hae written meikle trash ;
O ! mcmy a library is pang'd
Wi* her and Balderdash.
For, no a day flees ow're their heads
But volumes they do i>en.
And still their plots and stories come
Nae nearer to an en'.
That warl o' fancy they adore
O' subjects ne'er rins out ;
That spring, Castalian, whilk they quaff,
Is an eternal spout.
But let us damn or praise them now.
Or let us neither fash ;
But leave Sir Wisdom to himsell
To rule Sir Balderdash.
42 BAL BAN
Ballop — The shop door in a man's nether clothing ; the
same with " Sparc " (which see).
Bambouzled — Confounded, affronted, treated rudely.
Bamf — A fellow \nth broad feet.
Bamfin — Tossing, tumbling, &c. Auld John M*Clellan,
wha*s now awa, Bafmd, in the Solway Frith, many a
storm with his shell-wherry, according to his queer ac-
count. He wont to be " bamfin aff the heads " wi* Col-
lier Briggs whiles, and they under close reefed iapsails.
Seldom ever was he out any long voyage with his boat, but
the " tvaihcr bruik " on him, or he got back : once going
into Ramsay-bay, in the Isle of Man, the ^^ wather bruik''
on him, and " dog a bit " (as he told the story), there came
a sea owVe the whurrie's quarters, and sweeped his hat and
wig wi't ; sae he had to spread his sea-coat, in the " stem-
sheets^' to keep out the sea, while he steered the " whurrie "
into Ramsay, wi' a "//r;//V on his pow."
John was an oddity, and told strange tales ; when it hap-
pened he was telling one, and any thing made him lose the
" thread," he always referred to the wife to set him right
again, by inquiring at her, " \\Tiar was I, Meg." Meg
knew all his tales, the greater part of which were lies ; but,
by his telling them long, he came to think them truths.
John was a celebrated country fiddler in his day, and his
tunes are very popular. — The life and character of this
being, drawn fully out, would form a diverting book.
Banefires — Bonfires; fires of joy.
Bans'men — Men who bind sheaves, and put those sheaves
in " stooks," alias shocks, behind reapers. These men are
commonly old steady men, who have seen many a harrest.
They gather straws, and keep the boon, in order, when the
gude man's back is at any time " turned."
J^an'sters — The same as above.
BAN BAR 43
I3ang — A blow.
I^ANNOCKS — Round thick cakes, ornamented frequently
with a hole in the centre : butter is often used in their
composition ; but if they can be got " haurnd^'' toasted on
a " ke/pkiiij' when the kelp is in fusion, then they have no
need of butter. For more particulars, see the article —
Miilbannock,
Banton-cocks — A small species of cock, yet full of spirit;
some say they are good fighters. An Irishman's opinion on
them once was, that he did not doubt '* but that there was
as much game in Banton-cocks as there was in the Carrik-
smokerSy^ the first brood for the pit in his country. Little
men, fond of fighting, are too termed Banton-cocks,
Baps — Little rolls of loaf-bread.
Barefit — Barefoot ; schoolboys, particularly in the coun-
try, strip off shoes and stockings, " whanere the harrows
b^n to trot,'* and put them not on again, till the hinharrest
iitfu ; indeed, many of them are so hardy, as not to shod
their feet the year round. I have seen them slide on ice
barefit, and wade through snow to the knees ; and I have
followed their example for fun whiles myself, and found it
not so cold as fancied : also, I have run barefit with them
through " Rossen's o' Whuns, after burds."
Bar for Bar — The game of rhyme ; Gallovidians are so
fond of clink, that they have a game with it, and a strange
one it is truely, when thought of : two or three, and some-
times more, amuse themselves with it, to dinnle aiva the
thniy as they say. One of the players invents a line, the
next that follows must give one to clink to it, and have a
little sense also ; a third follows, and on so : those who
can hold out longest, and clink best, gain the game, and
are allowed by all for that heat to have most of the poet
in their composition.
44 BAR BAR
Although, like Hudibras —
They who write in rhyme, still make
The one verse for the other's sake :
For, one for sense, and one for rhyme,
They think sufficient for a time.
I may give a specimen of the game, as played by three
players —
The first O, Tam, I dearly lo'e a lass ;
second Is she a maid that has the brass ?
third Or is she o' the bonny class ?
first Weel, Jock, yc're but a cuddy ass,
second And what's Tam but a stinking mass ;
third His sweetheart's breath smells worse than gass.
first Why, Jock and you are just like glass,
second Through us, ye think, the light doth pass,
third And that we're fit to feed on grass.
first Twa fools ye be, alas ! alas !
second But thou'rt a fool as such ne'er was,
third And has a voice like music's bass.
So the third becomes the winner, and puts an end to the
balderdash.
Barkend wf Dirt. — Stiff with dirt; this from ship's sails,
being sometimes " barkend red " in tan-pits, with the juice
of oak-bark, to make them endure longer.
Barley — Parley ; to treat, to have peace for a moment.
This word is much used in rural games ; " a barley " is
often cried for the sake of momentary relief.
Barliefetterer — An implement of many edges used for
taking the beard off the grain barley.
Barliehood — When one is angry, it is said to have on the
barliehood.
Barm — Yeast ; the froth which works ale. Yeast from malt-
ale will not only work malt-ale, but all other ales ; whereas,
the barm from '' bra^-ivort'' and '' trikhyiir is useless.
BAR BAR 45
Barmwhun — A thick close branch of a whin, whereon barm is
laid by thrifty gudtiuives^ and hung carefully upon some nag :
there will it keep good long, and answer for brewing with.
Rarniewater — What a number of original characters has
this Galloway, at one time and another bred ; it is a per-
fect nest for them, not two of the country folks being
found any way similar to other ; nature so sports herself in
the formation of them, that she moulds no pair alike. In
towns she casts thousands with one " caum^' but in a wild
rural country, she uses a new caum at ever)' cast, and what
rude grotesque creatures she whiles will produce : one of
these, to an eminent degree, was Barnitiuaier.
He was of the name of Livingston, but was always
named Barniewater, from a moor-farm, in the parish of
Girthon, which he many a day was the tenant of It was
there where he made a considerable sum of money, and
first presented his originality to the world. With this cash
he purchased a little estate of the name of Grobdale, not
fiir from the famous fountain of Lochenbrack, and there he
died, a few years ago, a very old man. His hair hung down
his back as white as a " lintstraik^^ and his eyes looked
out from beneath his hat, in that sly shrewd manner which
bespeaks no common intellect. — He was naturally very
fond of money, so that some went the length to say, " his
greed made him lift mair than his ain whiles." I am in-
clined to doubt this — for it is always the case when a per-
son gets rich in a i)lace where no others can, that he is
branded with the epithet of being dishonest ; now, it is
true that Barnitivater scraped a good deal of cash out of
one of the most barren sterile places that can well be fan-
cied— where only rocks, moss-hags, dints, garries, gall,
and heather were to be seen — in a place where no animal
of farm-stock kind could live ; even the goat had much
ado to exist on it in the heart of summer ; yet, for all, what
46 BAR BAR
will industry and care not overcome. WTien he went to a
market or fair, for instance, he eluded those roads whereon
were fixed toll-bars — he paid for no whisky — he was at no
expence — he was always plotting the best method of evad-
ing it ; so saved much in this little way, which many others
did not .
In coming to Kirkcudbright, he was always pestered
with the Tongueland toll-bar, in his way ; but he left his
horse before he came through it, and walked on foot to
the town and Ixick, though a walk of four miles, to save
two-pence — and this he did to the last of his days ; old
age could not alter his rigid economy. To behold him,
mounted on his old shelty, was truly a laughable scene,
the animal being always so lean — a perfect " rickle S
banes,'^ and the saddle a goat-skin, by way of ^^si/ggan"
with stirrups worn to mere skeletons in their way .
Before he got a wife, he rummaged the whole country
in order to find one : wherever he heard of a woman being
in the matrimonial market, there was he, and there did he
treat with themselves or their parents about striking a bar-
gain, as if they had been brute animals. Love was never
felt nor spoke about — he would have said, " that he
had the farm of Barniewater — his name was Livingston —
ablins^ they had heard o* him — he had a gude deal o' sillar,
sax or aught score o* gates and about as mony black-faced
sheep, and of course he expected that the wife wad bring
him something equivalent."
Thus went he on for a long time, and all the girls of Gal-
loway became acquainted with him, yet he found few will-
ing to treat with him about a match : at length, he brought
one so near the point of closing, that he would allow her
five minutes to make up her mind whether she should
have him for a husband or not. The short space of five
minutes soon fled, and she agreed to wed Baniieioater ;
she brought him something like an ecjuivalency too, and
BAR BAR 47
a ^^ sonsy'' daughter, as a ^^ iuckpenny^'' in a short time
after — ,
This daughter, being bred in a wild moorland region,
where few of her kind she ever met with, except her strange
pjarents, the lassie became extremely wild, ran like a hare,
and hid, if she had seen any human being approach the
house .
Her father was prevailed on by some person to send her
to a boarding-school awhile, to get some education; he
took her to Dumfries, for. that purpose, and had much ado
in leaving her behind him : she clung by his coat-tails, and
^^scraich'd'' out as if she had been a creature from the
shores of Nootka Sound, or some such out-of-the-way
place, and at night she set up a horrible howling. Next
morning, betimes, she took to her " scrapers,'' as the Irish
phrase it, and skelped home in a crack, on the " light side
of her foot," to Barniciuater .
She was troubled no more with a boarding-school, or
indeed any other kind of school but that of nature, and has
turned out to be one of the cleverest females, both in mind
^nd body, as is in the country : she could ride the wildest
joung horse that ever " lap " bare-backed, with nothing on
its head but a " cincfd hair halter ; " this she would do not
''^saddle to side," as women ride, but "/<^ on every," as
the men do : and for working amongst sheep, there was
not a herd so good in her neighbourhood ; she would have
brought the goats off Cairnsmoor too in grand stile, run-
ning up and do^Ti precipices as quick as them. But
whether she ''^ gather d ivide" as many thought her father
did, it becomes not me to say. I have taken her father's
part, that he was not in reality such a person as was sus-
pected, and I shall stand by it, though report is flat against
mc, that the mark he knew his flocks by, was the mark of
^^ rounsto7C'ing," that is, cutting off the cars altogether —
that he flung his marches open to his neighbour's sheep.
48 BAR BAR
and when they came upon his land, he ''^ rounstou^d^' their
ears, which was doing away with all other marks, and so
getting them to become his property . This character
made him be disliked by his neighbours, and there were
often serious broils between him and them. One of these
affairs, with a farmer of the name of Clark, came before
a court of justice, and can be found told at great length,
in the Dumfries newspapers of that time : the law went
against Bamiewaier^ and he and his wife were put in gaol
some time about it .
And my opinion is, that he was badly used in that con-
cern. The affray took place on a Sunday afternoon, to be
sure, which was not a right thing : but this Clark met him
and his wife, taking a walk on that day, and insulted them
with tales of " rounstonnng,^^ which, no one could say was
actually true, which stuff roused Barni^s wrath, and he
and the wife gave the insolent fellow a laughable drub-
bing .
Barnicivater was a creature of patience, perseverance,
and good nature ; he never keep'd company with those
whom he termed ^^debush'd curses ^^ but sober plodding
souls, like himself, were his favourites. He had a custom,
as all moor-farmers have, of throwing the bones they pick,
over one of their shoulders to their dogs in waiting : he
was taking his dinner somewhere, and behind him on the
wall hang a looking-glass ; he threw a bone smack over his
shoulder, which sent the mirror to pieces. To pay the
damages, pleased him ill, but he had to cash out, much
against the inclination .
Such was a very rare being — was one wTiting a novel
he could be done some justice to ; whereas, in short
sketches of this kind, it is difficult to lay him so before
strangers, that they may behold him as he was. 1 o know
a person well, one must hear him often speak — know how
his pulse beats on various occasions — and so get glimpses.
BAR BAS 49
as it were, of the interior of the bosom — with some know-
ledge of what goes on in the pericranium.
!Barnman's-jig — This is a dance which those persons have
who thrash with the flail. The swoople on the end of the
hand-staff being whirled round on the barn-floor by the
hamman ; every wheel he gives it, he leaps over it, and so
produces a very singular dance, worth walking a mile to see,
yet few of the barriers who do this dance in style, are willing
to perform before spectators. The girl who kaves the corn
is the only one for common who is gratified with the sight.
I once insisted on an Irishman, whom I was told was good
at it, to let me see ; but all I could insist availing nothing,
he got angry, and exclaimed — " Hoch, by the frost, don't
bother me — I won't give a spring at this time ; you may as
well whistle jigs to a mile-stone."
Barried — Thrashed ; as with a flail.
Barries — Flannel belts, for wTapping round the bodies of infants.
^ARROWTRAMS — The side bearers of a hand-barrow.
Barrs — ^Large hills, ridges, &c. What a number of barr-hills
there are in Galloway ; these were barriers in the days of
jore — ^places of defence — places which divided the power of
l>arons.
5a.rr's Cat — Perhaps Macvey, Napier, Brewster, Miller, &:c.
liave not an article in all their encyclopaedias, like this one
in mine, termed Barr^s Cat, It was a very large monster of
Sl bawdronSy that was known about the farm of Barr, in the
jparish of Pennigame, about sixty years ago : it was as large
^ cat as CrumwhulVs Gibb, to be afterwards spoken of:
"•he size of it became proverbial all over the country, and
^very thing larger than it should be, was said to be a rouscr^
like Bart's Cat,
.SH — A blow.
^SHFu' — Backward — modest
50 BAS BAU
Baskwather — Dry withering weather ; the wind, when
such prevails, blows out of the east and north-east, jasl
as it blew on the Prophet Jonah, when it withered Imis
gourd.
Batch — A crew of blackguards, who keep each others compart j.
Batchelors'-buttons — A beautiful red button-shaped flower.
Batt — A blow.
Bati'les o* Strae — Bundles of straw, folded neatly, as it were;
into themself. See IVafps.
Baubee — An half-penny.
Baudminnie — An herb having the same qualities as the
" Savingtree" which see.
Baudrons — One of the cat's names.
Bauldy — The name Archibald.
Bauldy Corson — AVhat an original character was Bauldy;
sometimes called Serjeant Corson ; he was a native of
Galloway, and could boast of having not a little high-bom
blood in his veins — ^but, as Pope says,
** That ancient, but ignoble bloocl,
** Has creep'd through scoundrels ever since the flood."
For this our hero cared nothing ; in learning and dissipa-
tion he passed his youth, and before he was twenty, en-
listed into a regiment of militia, called the Bualeughs^
in honour of that worthy Scottish family of Buccleugh.
In it he did not long remain as a private, for his genteel
address and bewitching manner, soon had him adorned with
a sash, and furnished out as a serjeant ; such a person as
Bauldy soon caught the eye of his commander, the Duke,
for though not a tall man, his figure as a soldier was great,
and his natural talents of the first rate ; he was advanced
again to the high post of a recruiting serjeant, and sent with
a party of good looking privates, into the towns and country
places of Scotland, to enlist the unwary.
BAU BAU 51
And never was there a character better cut out for his
station than he, and seldom ever was there need for such
characters as he, at that time, when all the continental world
growled around us, threatening an invasion every day; he
possessed as it were, every property that can be supposed
qualifications for the office ; he could give a damn with
singular bravado ; he was a blackguard of great grace, and
drank whisky after a most enticing manner. The cock of every
company he was in ; the head-man of every party. At fairs,
and other public gatherings, what fascinating speeches and
harangues did he not make at the drum-head; those who
before had an utter abhorrence of a military life, just leap*d
at the bounty ; then he was as good at keeping his recruits,
as he was at enlisting them ; when any desertions took place,
none were found so capable of ferreting them out as the
Serjeant; if he was beat with finding them, they were bid
Jareweel to cheerfully; when Bauldy, the sly hound, was
let slip on them, the game was almost sure to be caught ; he
was often obliged, in this service, to traverse the greater
I)art of the three kingdoms. What tales he had about
catching those runaways, starting them, perhaps, out of some
den in the dark Cannongate of Auld Reekie, then following
in view over Berwick-upon-Tweed, and afterwards het fit
to London ; or if they had taken the westerly range it was
all one to the Serjeant ; he'd cross Stran^goiver ; post after
them through Green Erin, and hook them up in the devil's
own city, Dublin. But whisky and debauchery fairly taking
the upperhand of him, he was obliged to turn tail on
the regiment, retired into Galloway, and took to himself
a rib. Still, however, his friend the Duke, could not alto-
gether lose sight of him, but got a birth for him in the
Customs, viz. that of a Tide waiter^ s. While in this situation
he played the devil with the smugglers all along the shores
of Solway Firth ; he discovered all their dens for secreting
contraband goods ; nothing could go beyond his craft ;
52 BAU BAU
he fairly C07ud the gowan, as the saying is. On hearing,
once, of the arrival of a smuggling lugger at Port Mary,
away he posted, in order to learn what had become of the
cargo, but knowing this not to be altogether an easy matter,
he had recourse to the following stratagem.
Having put himself under a garb of disguise, he went
nmning with great haste into one of the smuggler's houses,
and cried out amongst a bevy of their wives who were as-
sembled, "That the hale o' the Corbies o* the Custom-
house war within less than a mile o* the Burnfit, and that
if they did na set too instantly, and hide every thing better
than it was hidden, they wad fin' the haleware in a twink-
ling.''
The which intimation created no small stir amongst them,
thinking the informant to be one of their well-wishing neigh-
bours ; to better hiding they went, and Bauldy stripped the
coat and seemed to work the throngest But no one appear-
ing to alarm, they concluded that the person who raised it,
must have been mistaken, so they returned to their houses,
satisfied that this was the case.
The Achan of the camp, however, slunk away firom them,
and returned next day with a party, seized the whole, to the
utter astonishment of the smugglers in that quarter.
Still, he took spirits to excess, was no very good husband,
flashed away a small estate of land he fell heir to, lost his
government place, got quite reduced, retired into the
country, brought his scholarcraft into action, and taught a
small rustic school. Bauldy though was too long in turning
the dominie ; his pupils were few, so he was obliged, though
sore against his will, to mow and sow com occasionally.
After all, he was a fellow of great abilities ; could I look
through man with the same eyes that Bauldy used, I should
think myself very clever indeed ; he knew the lineage too,
of all the families of note in Galloway ; could follow them
out like a squirrel along every branch of tlie tree, and over
BAU BAU 53
and above, and double all that ; he had good stories to tell
for ever ; good old tales, as many as would fill fifty numbers
of any magazine now published ; and then he told them, in a
dialect of which he was a complete master, the Gallovidian ;
then he could sing well ; that old song " The Shepherds of
Galloway," he could give a twang too, that made it quite
charming ; he had numberless barrs and staves of song, but
they in general had so many threads of blue inten^'oven in
their frame, that I won't insult modesty by giving them. I
may, however, note down a few verses of a very singular Poem
he used frequently to recite, called " The Soldier's Prayer : "
Frae a* lang marches on rainy days,
And frae a' stappages out o' our pays,
And frae the washerwoman's bills, on the damned claise,
Gude Lord deliver us.
Frae mountain guard whan the snaw rides deep,
And frae standing sentry whan ithers sleep,
And frae barrack beds, whar lice and bugs do creej),
Gude Lord deliver us.
Frae a' bridewell cages and blackholes,
And officers' canes, wi' their halbert poles.
And frae the nine-tail'd cat that opposes our souls,
Gude Lord deliver us.
May a* officers wha make poor men stand,
'I'ied up to the halbert, foot, thigh and hand,
Die rotten in the p — x, and afterwards be d — n*d,
Gude Lord deliver us.
The following verse of the old song he sang in fine stile :
Enough o' meal's come in at Leilh,
And herring at the Broomilaw,
Cheer up your heart my bonny lass.
There s gear to win, we never saw.
Johnic's Greybreeks, he also could do ample justice to.
Altho' my love's gane far awa,
Whar guns and cannons rattle o',
Alas that he should chance to fa'
In some unhandy battle o'.
And I'll clout my Tohnie's Greybreeks,
For a' the ill he s dune me yet,
And I'll clap a clout aboon a clout.
And see to turn the wun about ;
For I hope to see, before I dee,
Our bairns dancing roun' us yet, &c.
54 BAU BAU
After singing, he used to fetch a deep sigh, as if former
days had crossed him, as doubtless they often did : then he'd
give his exclamation, which always was htchy aweel an hechy
and follow it, perhaps, by
Up and waur them a* WuUie,
Up and waur them a\
Up wi' your lang pikestaff.
And ding them down to snaw, WuIIie.
In his dispK)sition was a great deal of good nature and resig-
nation ; he had a contented face, and took his meat well to
the last ; he had got a circle of friends . about him that he
visited, and they fed him, but had the weather been bad, and
he not able to get out to see them, he was then ill enough
off, as he hoarded up nothing at home.
The worthy family oi Drumore were extremely kind to him,
and let him want for nothing they could furnish him with ;
he was, perhaps, the best beggar that ever tried the trade,
for he always got plenty of food and clothes without asking
for them ; and when a kimmeringy a kirseningy a kirn or a
weddingy took place within his reach, he was sure to smell it
out, for the sake of catching drops of his favorite luxury,
whisky ; and about the nrw year time he was often carried
home to his cruey on a hand-barrow, just mortal. Tobacco
he chew'd to excess, the brew of which ran in a brown rill
from either unck d his motiy as if it had been trikle ; he knew
well the persons who keep'd the best filled splauhans in his
part of the country, and also, wha was best gien d a chow ;
nor was he wanting of generosity ; for when any well-wishers
filled his spleiichaHy he would present it again to them, to
take a chew in return. The news of the country, or the
kintra-clashy was well known to Bauldy, and he turned it
to his advantage ; all messages were bandied by him from
house to house, parties were set, lads and lasses appointed
to meet, all through Bauldy. In this respect he much
resembled the celebrated Eddy Ochiltree. Children, where-
BAU BAU 55
ever he went, were very fond of him, and hung on by his
dickett staff and coat tails. The servant wenches, though
were often very much displeased with him, because of
his questions, and his opinions of them, he was such an
accomplished master of human nature, that he knew exactly
what would please, and what not ; these girls would rather
have endured any thing, as a banter from Bauldy; his
words pierced their very marrow, and made them shake at
the centre.
He got very soon acquainted with strangers, and with
loungers like himself, he bore the bell — was quick at detect-
ing lies — he knew falsehood, he said, by its very unnatural
sough ; he never cared much about the servants of any house ;
ay, the gude man and the gidde wife were those he warmly
inquired after — he had wisdom in this too .
Praising the bairns before the tnither's face — this was too,
one of his unfailing plans — saying that " sic a ane had just
the bonny een of its mither, for he minded weel what they
were like at fairs lang syne — that there was na sic a
spangin clever hizzie on a' the kintra-side." Politics and
newspapers he was always very fond of: still inquiring at
those whom he thought skilled in these matters, how the war
was coming on, and how that " fell fallow. Bonny, was skelpin
through ? " tlien, if he was told " that there lately had been a
great stramash, many towns sacked, many men killed, and
so forth," with tobacco-sap, dropping brown from his chin,
he'd exclaim, aweei an hech .
He died the other year, in the parish of Kelton, when he
was above eighty years of age. The following epitaph on
him, was one of my boyish crimes : —
EPITAPH.
Come, gather roun, and laugh or grane,
At what is said upon this stane,
Bout him aneath't, a famous ane,
Wha's name was Bauldy Corson.
56 BAU BAW
Gude faith, he was a cheel gie rare,
Bout fortune no a preen did care,
Yet fu* and merrily he did fare,
The jovial Bauldy Corson.
He sang and drank, and damned awa.
For virtue cared na much ava,
Tell'd tales for fun, that did beat a'—
The happy Bauldy Corson.
Ye wha can tak a bowsan drink.
Whan that your purses hae the clink,
Upon your brither here come think,
And weep for Bauldy Corson.
Ye wha are unco mim i'e mou,
Wha at a dram do snuff and grue.
Mind he beneath was no like you.
Despise than Bauldy Corson.
And seem to say he*s gane to hell,
Amang his friens for ay to dwell,
Wha kens but ye a far waur cell.
May get than Bauldy Corson.
What wad ye say, ye holy crew,
Wha goodness ay seems to pursue,
If he was blessed aboon you't you.
The glorious Bauldy Corson.
Wha little Bible ever read.
Bout preachers ne'er did fash his head.
Nor learned ought but nature's creed.
Enough for Bauldy Corson.
If that his crimes sometimes were great.
His heart did often feel that heat.
Which made it sweet, and heavenward beat.
The queer chiel Bauldy Corson.
But let him sleep nneath the sod.
Soon wi' him we'll hae our abode.
Than may our sauls flee up to God,
And see auld Bauldy Corson.
Bawks — Jousts, couples, &c. ; beams for holding the roofs ol
houses steady.
Bawks o* Lan — Pieces of land the plough misses in ploughing
it. " Lae na banks in gude beer lan," is a phrase, meaning,
that in telling a story, to dash right onward, and if any thing
of an immodest nature seems to be in the way, to stop not
for it.
BAW BED 57
Baws.— The calves of the leg.
Bawsent. — Having a white stripe down the face ; applicable
chiefly to brute animals. Cows with this mark, or horses,
are commonly called " bawsiesT
Bawtie. — ^A fond name for a dog.
Bawxter. — A mighty personage of some kind or other. When
it is said of such a one, that he ** beat Bawxter, and Bawxter
beat the de*il ; " it places that character high. Methinks
this — Bawxter is Baxter, who wrote that well-known religious
book, the " Saint's Everlasting Rest ; '* he combats in it,
with strong reasons, the devil, and may be said to overcome
him whiles, which may have raised the saying, "That
Bawxter beat the de'iL"
Beardin the Lasses. — The art men have of rubbing their
beards on the cheeks of the girls ; those men who have the
stoutest brush are the best bearders ; it does not answer the
cheeks of delicate ladies, but country girls are fond of it, as
those who can beard must be men — those who cannot, are
beardless boys^ with nothing but goarlin hair on their c/ta/ts,
Beardocs. — Small fresh-water fish with beards.
Beasenin. — That fat thick matter which is drawn out of a
cow's udder after she calves ; when boiled it becomes excel-
lent food.
Beasties. — An aflfectionate name for brute beasts ; also one
for vermin.
Bebb. — ^We are said to bebb ourselves with any thing, when we
fill ourselves too ftill — the tide when full is said to be bebbinfu
— the word comes from bibe^ the Latin and English word.
Beck. — To bow ; to be ceremonious.
Bedalu — A grave-digger; for why, he "beds" us mostly
« all."
58 BED BEE
Bedrall. — A person so lame or disordered that he is obliged
to remain constantly a-bed.
Bedridden. — We are said to be bedridden when healthy we
sleep long in bed, and when we get up are not refreshed ; for
we have overdone nature by snoring so long; we have insulted
her modesty; we have rode the bed so long, as it were, that the
bed has got the upper hand and rode us. Whence the name.
Bedstock. — ^The strong frame of wood which runs along the
front of a bed. " Before I lie in your bed, either at stock or
wa,'* as the old song says.
The following lines on the bed, wrote by Benserade, a
French poet, and translated by Dr. Johnson, I still think
good —
In bed we laugh, in bed we cry,
In bed we're born, in bed we die,
The near approach a bed doth shew
Of human bhss, to human woe.
Bee. — A small hoop of either brass or iron, put on the end of
sticks to hinder their splitting.
Beek. — To bask ; beeking ; basking.
Beel or BiEL. — A shelter.
Beelins. — Suppurations ; bilious tumours in the flesh. Those
reapers who have the bad luck to reap ^* thrisfy corn
are troubled very much, poor souls, with " beelin thumbs;
^^prods^^ otherways ; prickles of hawthorn, when ^^ picked out
7vf preens " from their poisoned cells in our hands and feet,
whiles, are eaten by the kintra-folk ; for they say, " eating
the prod hinners the wound to beelJ^
Beer Awns and Butter. — The beards of beer mixed with
butter. When those creatures called ^^ Gian Carlins^^ yfont
to meet with any one alone on hallotveen night, they stuffed
it with " beer awns and butter ;'' a mixture by no means very
agreeable to either the throat or stomach.
»»
»f
BEE BEE 59
Beerbuntlins. — Birds as large as thrushes, and somewhat like
them in plumage ; common amongst grain, particularly beer,
when growing ; it is from this, and because they are of the
buntin species of birds, they have their name ; they are not
good flyers ; and they keep their feet hanging when they fly,
like young or wounded birds.
Beerfey. — Anciently the best piece of land about a farm.
This was the craft, the only place that received a spoonful of
manure — the only place where it was thought beer would
grow.
Bees in the BRAiN^^^-People, after they have been "fou,"
feel, as they are returning to their wits again, a bizzing and
"singin" in the head, which are called the bees d the brain ;
also, when they are getting intoxicated, they feel these fanci-
ful insects.
Bees-skeps. — Baskets made of straw and briers, as houses for
bees ; when a hive needs one of these mansions, it is rubbed
with green leaves and old honey in the inside ; then peeled
sticks are put across it to support the combs, and a standard
post down the middle. And if this work is done before the
hive needs it, the people say, ^^ they'll no need it that year, as
bees like nought done a forran*^ Sometimes rascals of bee-
men set " toom-skeps " in their gardens, to allure other people's
hives into them. Such characters never thrive though on
a " kintra-sideJ^
Bee-stanes. — Stones in the form of a sector, to set bee-hives on.
Beet. — To add fuel to a fire ; taken figuratively, to add to
what needs little addition.
Beetle. — A wooden implement with a round heavy head ; the
pestle of the " kitchen," used for " champing " potatoes and
other purposes. Some large farmers have four beetles play-
ing away in the " meiklepot^' when cooking food for their
reapers, playing away all at once.
Beets o' Lint. — Sheaves of green flax.
6o BEE BEL
Beeyards. — Apiaries for bees. Quarry-holes fronting the
south make the best bee-gardens.
Beggar Bodies. — Beggars.
Beggar Plaits. — Cresses in the skirts of garments. Beggars'
weeds are frequently plaited this way, from their lying and
sitting on them ; hence the name.
Beggar's Bed. — The bed kept in farmers' banis for beggars.
Bexxjar's Owreword. — An old song called the beggar-man's
owreword runs this way —
Through the streets o* Auld Reekie a beggar stravaged,
And a merry auld beggar was he,
Though his breeks and his plaidy were baith unco raggeil,
He could laugh, he could dance, ay, and relish a spree.
When he'd meet wi a gentleman fat and weel bagged.
His honour he'd cr'ae for a single bawbee ;
And say, while his hat on his staff he outwagged,
A wee things a help^ as the wran said,
IVhan she gaed ance, and piifCd V the sea,
A little and little to meikle soon rises,
Tis the high way to riches we see,
To be adding, and adding, our purse soon surprizes,
Tho' the lump at the first be scarce worthy a flee.
And this is the way too our reason advises,
If we wad hae wisdom look gleg wi the e'e,
A thousan times better than siller the prize is;
So than let us claught it degree by degree ;
For a wee things a help, as the reran said,
IVhan she gaed ance, and pished f' )he sea.
Beggar's Staffs. — These staffs are known from all others
by their greasy sleekness. Irishmen speak of the juice of
a " beggar-man's staflf j" it is likely there is such a thing.
Begnet. — A bayonet.
Begoud. — Began.
Bein. — ^Snug ; warm ; happy, &c,
Beink. — A long form or seat.
Belli ban. — A band of leather or what not, which is made
to pass under the bellies of horses, while each end is made
BEL BEN 6 1
fast to the shafts of the cart, to hinder them mounting when
the cart is a loading.
Bellibuchts. — Curious hollows in the sides of some hills, not
running in the longitude way, as hollows mostly do, but
the contrary.
Bell-towlin. — Bell tolling. The ringing of the bell.
As the fool thinks,
The bell clinks.
This old snatch has truth in it. Whittington, the cele-
brated man with the cat^ thought the Ix)ndon bells rang
his wish ; and so did Bell Allan, At first, hopeful girl !
she thought the bell said.
Ting towlin — Bell Allan,
as a warning for her to listen \ then it sounded respecting
her lovers,
" Awa Peter Busby,
** And a' thy kith and kin ;
*• I'll follow Robin Fisher
*• Through thick and thin."
Belly-flaucht — Belly-broad. — When any person falls bdly-
flaucht^ it means a fall on the broadest part of the
belly.
Belly-timmer. — Any kind of very strong food is so termed,
as porrage, sowings, brose, &c.,; such plank the kytc^ as it
were, with durable timber, or ^^ dag to the ribs^' as the
saying is.
Belton. — The third day of May.
Bemmle. — A bad ill-shaped man ; a bad walker.
Ben. — The innermost room of a house.
Be naething the louder. — A common curling phrase. It
is used as a direction given to a player — the which is to
throw his stone so that it may gently hit another stone,
and displace it a little, but not to give it any additional
force on that account, more than if he were not to hit it.
62 BEN BEN
He is not to give it prnvder^ and shove all to lochhead of
desolation, but simply to hrak an egg.
Bengairn. — A lofty mountain in Galloway. There is little
remarkable about it It was one of the stations of the
trigonometrical surveyors ; and from its top on a clear day
three or four kingdoms may whiles be seen, if we consider
the Isle of Man as one. It is about three thousand feet
above the level of the sea,
Benjie. — The name for Benjamin. — Two lovers, Benjie
and Phemie, figure in a song. It may here be given by
the way.
PHEMIE AND BENJIE.
Ay just awa's ye cam' Benjie,
Straught out owre the hill ;
For never will thy clavers, Benjie,
Through my heart gae thrill.
Whan I was poor, ye bar'd ye*r door,
And didna care for me ;
Now fain ye wad — Benjie lad,
I canna suffer thee.
0 dinna tell me sae, Phemie,
Ye hae better sense ;
1 lo'ed ye many a day, Phemie,
Or ye gat the pence.
Do ye no min* the ball sae fine,
Whar ye did partner me?
And the wud sae eay, whar mony a day
I leamcd nits wi thee ?
That's a mere clatters, Benjie,
Ye ne'er lo'ed me ava.
Let me dress as I wad, Benjie,
In my best sae braw —
My poplin gown, wi* tnmmin' roun'
which sae weel fitted me.
Ne'er drew your e'e the least ajec —
I'se no be fash'd wi' thee.
Wi' than I'll just awa, Phemie,
Ein out owre the burn.
There try gif I can stay, Phemie,
And nae mair return.
Try to forget thy hair o' jet.
And bonny blinkin e'e ;
There feci distress for happiness,
Because I ha'e na thee.
BEN BES 63
Feel what ye please there, Benjie,
But ne'er thy fancy crowd
\Vi* joys that wives will bring, Benjie,
Wives wha ha*e the gowd.
Gae af thy wa's, and herd the craws :
Thou'rt far frae being slee,
Wha ken's but yet, that I may get
Nae better lad than thee.
What's this ye tell to me, Phemie ?
I'm na up to this. —
O tell me't owre again, Phemie —
Tell me wi' a kiss.
0 what is this ! O what is bliss !
How kine thou art to me !
Now — now — ye tell, ye lo'e mysell
As dear as I lo'e thee.
And wha cud lo'e thee ill, Benjie ?
That was never me !
1 onlly meand to try ye, Benjie —
Now thy heart I see.
Whan I was low thou wert my Joe,
Aneath the greenwud tree :
Now I shall share Fortune's fare,
My Benjie dear, wi' thee.
Bennles. — Things dry and brittle, as reed.
Bensle. — A bleak, cold place. A place where the frost wind
finds easy admittance. Also a person with a saucy air — as
much thinking that he does not care a d n for the world.
We say, sic afallou* gangs wf a great bensle^ or has on a great
bensle, — He passes the poor with a sneer, and capsizes the
infirm with a laugh — his bosom is a bleak place, a bensle, —
cold unfeeling blasts whistle round his frozen heart.
Bent. — The open fields.
Benty-grass. — Coarse grass, which grows in marshes.
Bessie. — A name for Elizabeth.
Best man. — The male friend a bridegroom selects to attend
him through the season of marriage. Commonly this " best
man " is considered by the bridegroom his " best crony " when
he rambles the country to invite to the wedding. This chief
man attends him when he is about to take the hand of the
bride in the marriage ceremony. This man stands beside
64 BEU BIG
him, and ungloves the hand. This man, so highly favoured,
attends him too at the " kirken "; and, on the whole, is often
as happy looking as the bridegroom. Widows choose
widows, and sometimes married men, for their ^^best men^'
never pitching on any of the unmarried.
Beuk— Book. The Bible.
Beust. — Grass two years old. Having stood through winter,
it is withered. Is there a Galloway farmer who does not
know what a tuft d beusty grass is ? Not one. And I hope
now that all my readers are as knowing, as to that question,
as them.
Bevel — Off the perpendicular. A wall made to lean in is said
to be beveled so.
Beverage. — The first sweets of any thing. When a young
girl gets any piece of new dress, she slyly shows it to her
yoe^ who gives her a kiss, which is taking the bn^erage of
the article in question. And when he gets any thing, they
kiss again, which is giving the beverage. The bridegroom
takes the bei^erage of his bride by kissing her the instant the
marriage ceremony is over; but if any other person be so
nimble as to have a kiss before him, that person gets the
beverage.
BiBBLiN. — Weeping and sobbing.
Bicker. — A wooden bowl.
Bickerin. — Making quick motions. One running fast is said
to bicker. One fighting fast is also said to bicker^ from such
I infer the meaning.
Bide. — Abide.
Big. — Build.
Biggin. — A hut.
BiG-ON. — A term at the game of channelstone, much used
by my worthy and social friend Drumnwre. If a stone
lies near the cock, and guarded, yet thought to need a
BIL BIL 65
double guard, if not a triple. The order from that side
who has /// the stone, is commonly to big-on — to guard
away — to " block the ice^ And the command of the other
party is mostly, when things are in this situation, to come
up UfV a* the powther Vthe horn and waken the guards.
Old wary curlers, however, take a different plan. They
won't waste stones on the guards. They sail them past
the sentinels, nigh wutter length, obtains a Inring, plays
on it, and not unfrequently drives out the winner, thought
by t'other side to be even almost too secure.
Bill. — The bull — the king of the byre. Black-coloured bulls with
" wee-lugs " are those most thought of by Galloway farmers.
Black is the favourite colour for cattle over all the country.
BiLLHiPPiE. — An ox with bull-hipps. Such animals please
not the squeamish eyes of cattle-dealers. I once heard one
of these valuable characters say, that a billhippic was fit to
damn a drove.
BiLLHUiK. — An hedge bill.
BiLLiLUE. — See Whillilue.
Bills eag. — An old bull castrated.
BiLLATORY. — A name for a restless bull.
Billy. — To make a noise as oxen. These billy, when they
smell the blood of their kind, the whole herd gather round,
with vengeance in their eyes, and tear up the ground. Bulls
on such mighty occasions, are the most forward, and lead
on the furious concert
Billy Bell. — This is rather an out-of-the-way little song.
BILLIE BELL.
Hech ! how ! Billie Bell !
Whar hast thou been wandering ?
Up in heaven, or down in hell ?
Ye beat the deil for dawn' ring.
Hast thou got a hizzie yet,
To streek down by thy side, Billie ?
Or canst thou no ava, man, get
Ane to be thy bride, Billie ?
E
66 BIL BIL
I ha*c a* hame daughters sax —
Wilt thou come and see them, Billie ?
And gin ane o'them thou 'It aux,
Tse be na ill t*thee, Billie.
I'll gi'e to thee a bonny cow,
Gm ihou'll tak my Nannie, Billie,
Ane Crommie wi* a brocket mou'.
And they ca* her brawnie, Billie.
But gin thou' It no fancy her.
And ratherest wad ha'e Meg, Billie,
A less tocher maun her ser*
Twa grey geese and a Steg, Billie.
Or, if thou better likes the e*e
O* my wee Jeany, Billie,
My turkey-cock I'll gi'e to thee.
And the breeding Peanie, Billie.
As for my Tibbie, Nell, and Kate,
] ha'e nought to gie them, Billie,
But my blessing air and late : —
Sae come awa and see them, Billie.
Billy Marshall. — The famous Gallo vidian gypsey, or
tinkler. He was of the family of the Marshall's, who
have been tinklers in the south of Scotland time out
of mind. He was a short, thick-set, little fellow, with
dark quick eyes; and, being a good boxer, also famous
at the quarter staffs he soon became eminent in his
core ; and having done some wonderful trick by
which he got clear off, he was advanced to be the
chief of the most important tribe of vagabonds that
ever marauded the country. The following was that
trick : — He and his gang being in the neighbourhood of
Glasgow when there was a great fair to be held in it,
himself and two or three more of his stamp, having
painted their faces with keel, they went to the fair and
enlisted, getting each so much cash. They then deserted
to their crew in the wild mountain glen, leaving the
soldiers without a single cue whereby to find them.
For all, Billy once really took the bounty, joined the
army, and went to the wars in Flanders ; but one day
he accosted his commanding officer, who was a Galloway
BIL BIL 67
gentleman, this way : " Sir, ha'e ye ony word to send to
your friends in Scotland at present?" "What by that?"
returned the officer, " Is there any person going home ? "
"Ay," continued Billy, " Keltonhill fair is just at hand.
I ha'e never been absent frae it since my shanks could
carry me to it, nor do I intend to let this year be the first."
The officer, knowing his nature, knew it would be vain to
try to keep him in the ranks, so bade him tell his father
and firiends how he was ; he also gave him a note to take
to his sweetheart So Marshall departed, was at Keltonhill
fair accordingly, and ever after that paid much respect to
the family of Maculloch, of Ardwell.
It is not my intention to give a lengthened portrait of
this character, as one of the above family, who personally
knew him, has done this for me, and much better than I
could, in Blackwood's Magazine. Suffice it to say, that the
Corse d Slakes was a favourite haunt of his. There did he
frequently way-lay the unwary, and sometimes deprived
them of both life and purse. Billy's gang were seldom ever
beat by any others. When they met at fairs, he generally
drove all before him ; for the Irish took up with him from
Down and Deny, — ^and who can overcome them at the
handling of the stick ? To those country Cock Lairds who
were kind to him, he would do them no injury, but all the
good in his power ; whereas, those who were his foes, — Billy
was upside with them.
He would not have cared to have taken up lodging — he
and his core — in one of these gentlemen's kills — to have
purloined the greater part of the poultry, and roasted them
with the wood of the roof of said kill — to have there
staid a week, perhaps, in spite of every body — gone away
at his own time — and left a world of desolation behind
him. It was in one of these scenes that he drank. May
flier waur be amang us — a toast that can be construed in
many shapes. Thus did he flounder on through a long life.
68 BIL BIL
When he got old, his people, though, in a great measure,
forsook him.
It seems that he had both the good and bad qualities
of man about him in a very large degree. He was kind,
yet he was a murderer — an honest soul, yet a thief — at
times a generous savage — at other times a wild Pagan.
He knew both civil and uncivilized life — the dark and fair
side of human nature. In short, he understood much of
the world — had no fear — a happy constitution — was seldom
sick — could sleep on a moor as soundly as in a feather-
bed— took whisky to excess — died in Kirkcudbright at
the age of 120 years — was buried there in state by the
Hammer-men, which body would not permit the Earl of
Selkirk to lay his head in the grave, merely because his
Ix)rdship was not one of their incorporated tribe. Such
was the end of Billy Marshall, a brother of Meg Merri-
less.
BILLY MARSHALL'S SONG.
Merry ha'e I been making a cutty,
And merry ha'e I been making a spoon.
Merry ha'e I been courting a bonny lass,
Merr)' ha'e I been whan I had dune.
Sorry ha'e I been whan I was drubbit,
And mad wi' mysell whan my noddle was sair ;
Mony a time ha'e I sworn't, and ha'e broken't,
That wi' the aik kibblings I'd never fight mair.
Dnmkensome aft ha'e I been at Kirkcubrie,
And at Auchencaim I ha'e aften been fu* ;
And wi* my Meg Lundy, baitli week-day and Sunday,
Wi' skihing we've bebb'd oursells till we wad spue.
Fifty fat baimies now I ha'e gotten.
The wanton sweet hizzies war ay fond o* me ;
Wi' them I wad row on the burn-banks sae sunny,
Bargallie kens wecl 1 had monyn spree.
Sac here's to the glens growing thickly wi' hazles.
Ay here's to days I will never see mair ;
And here's to the tinklers, wallets, and cuddies,
Whilk (ladjcll ilk year to braw — Keltonhil-fair.
BIL BIL 69
The following song too is thought to have been ranted in
Billy's core : —
Whan Jock and me war married, we war a happy twa,
We laugh'd thegether a* the day, and kiss'd the night awa;
Sae thick and thrang, or it was lang, the bairnies round did
squeel.
And Jock and me the nappie lo'ed — sae a' gaed to the de'il.
We had twa kye, we pawn'd them baith, the sty we cleared,
and a' ;
Our cocks and hens too, by my faith ! and wadding braws sae
braw;
We drank like fish frae caup and dish, fu' cantily atweel,
But wullawuns wi' tinklers now — we dawner to the de'il.
I lead ae weanie in my han', there's twa upon my back ;
My spa wis ha'e ne'er a hoshen now, my pouches ne'er a plack ;
My gudeman fallows after, wi' the cuddy, powks, and keel :
It's alter'd days wi' us. How-hum I we're a' gaen to the de'il.
But gin my auntie K.ite was dead, and hidden i' the mools,
My Jock and me, again shall be, a pair o' ranting fools ;
Than we'll can clash, about our cash, and dress frae head to heel ;
For we shall heir her pursikie, in spite, man, o' the de'il.
Than we'se fling down the hampers, and dance a merry jig ;
My Jock will crack his whup, and sing, and birl me in a gig.
We'll lash awa, and dash awa, and drink like mad and breel ;
For what the hell cares Jock and me, tho' we should gae tae
de'il.
EPITAPH ON BH.LY MARSHALL.
Weel tinkler Billy, here you are,
The king ance o' the core, man ;
We wat ye were a kettle rare,
Whan ye did see sax score, man.
O brawly ye could clour a croon.
And make a nose play gush, man ;
Ye like<l weel to bleach a loon —
Your cudgell was na frush, man.
Gude faith, ye were na joke ava
Amang yer randy lasses ;
And cheels wha did the ramhorns thraw,
Wi' a' yer cuddy asses.
The whisky just in noggin-fu's,
Ye, 'ihout a howst, cud slot, man ;
Ye were na ane wha boaks and spues,
And brashes't up the throat, man.
70 BIL BIN
Sae, Billy, rest thy crazy banes.
Thy soul, belike's in hell, man ;
We only guess that there it granes,
For wha the de'il can tell, man ?
Yet if ye're got to the right shore,
Ye may be unco' glad, man ;
For, counting ilk infernal splore,
Sma' was the chance ye had, man.
The duddy de'ils, in mountain glen,
I^menteth ane and a' man ;
For sic a king they'll never ken.
In bonny Gallowa, man.
BiLT. — A short thick man.
BiLTAN. — Moving with the air of a thick short man.
BiNKED-SHOON. — Shocs which were at first too laige for the
feet that were to wear them, and the leather naturally bend-
ing inwards, they become at last too small — full of " binks *'
or bends.
BiNN. — A man of strong binn is a man strongly built and
bound — crop of good binn is a good strong crop.
BiNwuD — Wood-bine. I once tried my hand at song-making,
and produced the " Binwud Tree^^ which I here give with
great deference — shewing forth what a modest and wonderful
poet I, the youth, am — who will be a beau before my
granny yet.
Sing hey for the Binwud tree,
O ! sing how for the Binwud tree ;
For there the lads and the lasses wad meet.
And daff 'neath the Binwud tree. — Chorus, —
There did Jock and his Mally Malinn
Meet aften thegither awee.
And tho' the jade had an unco din skin,
It grew white *neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
There Maggie wha swore she detested the men,
Kiss'd wi' Tammy the Peanerflee ;
His whushers fu straught to her heart gaed ben, •
As they lay 'neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
BIN BIR 71
O ! mony hied there a sprogan ateen.
Wham few wad expect to see,
Wi' bonny red cheeks and blinking e*en.
And courd 'neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
For it grew in a neuk by yon bonny bum side,
Adown i' the flowery green lee ;
And the mavis she lilted wi' meikle pride,
I*the bowers o' the Binwood tree.
Sing hey, &c.
But there cam a pizioness blast frae the south,
And destroy'd a* our e'ening glee ;
O ! custom genteel — is the devil in trouth,
It has wallow'd the Binwud tree.
Then sing hey for the Binwud tree.
And sing how for the Binwud tree ;
For there the lads and the lasses wad meet,
And daff 'neath the Binwud tree.
BiRKENSHAW. — A sunny place of all kinds of brushwood, a
poet's country; there they roam unseen amang the Birks
and yellow broom, and tune their pipes.
BiRKiE. — A would-be gentleman.
BiRKY. — A rustic game at cards.
BiRL. — To whirl.
BiRL THE Bawbee. — Sport the cash for drink, is so termed ;
also halfpennies are tossed up at the beginning of some
games, to learn what side has the right first to play ; this is
called " Birlin tht Bawbee'' — See more of this article under
the title Heads or Tails,
BiRND-MARKS. — Marks made by burning. Sheep are so
seared on the side of the nose with red irons, that the
owners may know them.
BiRNS. — Burned, or ratherly chared heather — the spikes.
Birr. — Whirr.
BiRSES. — The bristles of swines' manes.
BiRSEY. — Full of bristles.
BiRSLE. — ^To bristle.
72 BIR BLA
BiRST. — A little person full of impudence.
Bit. — A small piece of any thing.
BiTTS. — Those jointed pieces of iron which are put in horses
mouths of course, but used allcgorically in the country for a
dram of whisky on certain occasions. When a man is wet
and trembling with cold, give him a canker^ and you take
the bitts out of his mouth.
/[/// ye no tak the bitts out d my mouth the day^ is a
common phrase by those who long to have drink from their
neebours when they meet on market-days in Clauchans, and
after much hargle barreling is gone through, a gill is decided
on, so the i)arty slide slowly and diffident into the yill-
house.
Bizz — Buzz. Hair all tossed on end, is said to be in a bizz ;
this comes from " Frizz^' the English word.
Black a viced. — Of black complexion ; probably this comes
from ''^ Black afaced^
Blackbides. — Blackberries. This term for that fruit not very
common.
Black Douglass. — Perhaps the greatest villain ever kno>Mi
in Galloway ; his den was the castle of Thrave, a befitting
keep for the tyger ; he keep^d the country round him in awe
for many a day ; even the Scotch kings could make nothing
of him. He caused Lord Kirkcubrie, M'Lellan, to be
hanged by a rope from a projecting stone in his castle wall,
yet to be seen, and took his dinner calmly while his hang-
men were doing so. Some say he was " durked " in Annan-
dale, but how he came by his death is uncertain ; however
he did not die a natural death. More or less particulars of
the wTctch may be known by peeping into any book almost
which treats of Scottish anti(iuities.
Black-leg. — A kind of murrain or plague amongst cattle.
The disorder for common seizes first on one of the hind
legs, and this leg, when the animal dies, (which is in less
BLA BLA 73
than twenty-four hours mostly from the time struck) is of a
black colour; whence the name. Sometimes they are
touched first with the distemper in the eye, and other parts
of the body. Young cattle are more subject to it than old ;
and it is always the best of the flock that die, though all
perish that take it, there being no cure as yet found.
Plans for preventing it are practised — bleeding, purging,
what not ; these plans are often attended with good. Too
old pasture is thought to be nothing in favour of it, and all
allow that it is highly infectious.
Black Morrow. — WTio this man was, baffles all antiquaries.
Tradition has him a ^^ BiackimorCy' and says he haunted
the forests south of Kirkcudbright ; a natural wood there
is yet called the " Black Morrcnv Wud " ; there he stopped
during the day, sallying out on the neighbouring country
at night, and committing horrible outrages. Also, that
having found his retreat, which was beside a cool spring,
in the dark forest, yet called the ^^ Blackimore's IVall^ a
barrel of spirits was brought by the people, and poured
into the spring well one night when he was out on his
rambles. Next day, having drank of the fountain, as
usual, he became touched with the grog, and fell asleep,
snoring profoundly ; his foes then rushed on him, like
the Philistines on Samson, and " dirked his heart wV mony a
deedly hoUr
So goes tradition — but my opinion, if it be worth any
thing, is, that he was no ^^ BiaMmore ;" he never saw
Africa ; his name must have been ** Murray ; " and as he
must have been too an outlaw, and a bloody man — gloomy
with foul crimes — ^^ Black'' prefaced it, as it did Black
Douglass^ and that of others ; so he became Black Murray.
Antiquarians say the sum of 50/. was offered by the king
for his head, dead or alive.
That one of the APLellans, of Kirkcudbright, took to
the wood single-handed, with a dirk, found the oudaw
74 BLA BLE
sleeping, and drove it through his head. With the cash
he bought the estate of Barmagauchm, in Borgue; the
foundation of the " head on the dagger " in the M'Lellan's
coat of arms.
Black-pish-minnies. — Black pismires.
Black Soles. — ^An assistant courtier. A male messenger
between a man and his love. There is a meanness in any
man working with such characters ; it shews he has not a
soul to dare to speak to a woman, nor a heart to love one.
Black Wunter. — The name for the last of the crop brought
in from the fields. The harrester^ whose lot this job
is, takes as good care as he can to avoid its being generally
known, until he has it done ; as if it be, the others
assail him with all filth for bringing in such a sad thing as
black wtmter,
Bladderskyte. — A silly foolish person, as easy ^^skyied^'
aside as a " bladder,''
Blae. — Blue, or light blue.
Blae-berries. — Billberries.
Blae-bows. — Blue flax bells ; the flowers of flax.
Blaidry. — Foolish chat.
Blart. — The noise which any broad thing makes falling
amongst sludge or mortar.
Blashy-wather. — Wet stormy weather.
Blastie. — Any ill-disposed youth.
Blatter. — To talk fast ; to rattle.
Blauds. — Broad pieces of any thing.
Blaw. — Blow ; to puff* any thing.
Blaw o* the Pipe.— A whiff* of the pipe.
Bleck. — A blackguard ; a " kintra-cooser."
Blecks amang Wheat. — Milldew.
BLE BLI 75
l^LEDNOCH Water. — The chief river in the shire of Galloway
or Wigtownshire ; it runs through a fertile track of country ;
it is a fine fishing stream ; and where it falls into Wigtown
Bay, at Innerwall, good salmon are caught. There are
traces where ancient battles have been fought on its banks ;
and some warm fancies have the river's name from " Bied-
Bleech. — ^A stroke.
Bleer E'ed. — Having ^ore eyes; dim with tears and dried tears.
Bleeze. — A blaze ; also to blazon.
Blellum. — An ignorant talkative fellow.
Blibbans. — Ribbons of any kind of slimy matter.
Blichan. — A person useless for any thing.
Blin — Blind.
Blinbarnie — Blindharry. The game.
Blinchamp. —A very singular rustic game ; when a bird's
nest is found, such as a Corbies or Hoodicraw^Sy or some
such birds that the people dislike, the nest is herried^
that is to say, the eggs are taken out of it, and laid in a
row a little from each other on- the grass ; one of the
players has then something bound over the eyes to blind
them, a stick is put in his hand, so he marches forth as
he thinks right to the egg-row, and strikes at it; another
tries the champing after him until they thus, blindfolded,
break them ; hence the name blincliamp.
Blink. — To wink.
Blinked Milk — Milk distasted. It gets so in warm sultry
weather, the heat, as it were, ferments it Gude 7viv€s
have it fired^ but the origin of blinked is, that it is witched j
blink d at by a foul ie,
Blin-mens-baws — A kind of dried fungi, or mushroom ;
being balls, as it were, of a fine dark brown dust ; this
76 BLI BOA
dust is doubtless blinding to the eyes, hence the name ;
they are common on the pasture fields during summer and
harvest, particularly if the weather be dry; when they are
young, they are white inside and out like other mushrooms,
yet detested by " catchup brewers " for reasons best known
to that " valuable " tribe.
Blinnie. — A person mimicating the blind.
Blirt. — The exterior of a mare^s uterus.
Block the Ice. — A curling term, the same with ^^ big-on"
to block up with guards the run of the stones, so that none
of them may take out a guarded winner.
Bluchans. — Little salt-water fish, about the size of Burn trouts.
Bluchtans. — Pieces of the dried stem of the mugwort ; they
are hollowed tubes : boys blow haw-stones and what not
through them ; hence the name.
Blue Boys. — Bad boys.
Blue-Gowns. — Old soldiers, with a "/a^j" for begging;
they got a blue-gown and a shilling Scots, for every year
of the king's age ; there are none of them now wandering
the country. Eddie Ochiltree will hand them down to
posterity.
Bluester. — A bully of words.
Blumf. — A stupid loggerhead of a fellow, who will not
brighten up with any weather, who grumfs at all genuine
sports, and sits as sour as the devil, when all around him
are joyous.
Blunner Boar. — A blundering fool. •
Blurr. — To blotch the paper with ink when wTiting.
Blushions. — Bulbs of water ; blisters of the flesh.
Bluti'er. — A foolish man, rather of the idiot stamp.
BoACK. — To vomit.
Boaf. — A name for a foolish dog.
BOA BOG 77
BoAL. — A square niche in a wall for holding little needfuls ;
such as Grannies specks, and cuttypipe^ with the bane-
kame and single carriges.
Boas. — Any thing full of emptiness.
BocHLE. — An awkward footed female.
B<:x;hi,es. — Old shoes, or shoes that have been worn by
awkward shaped feet.
Bode. — An offer.
Boddle. — A small Scottish coin, the sixth part of an English
penny, and the half of a Scotch plack.
Boddum. — The bottom.
Bodies o*Borgue. — The people of the parish of Borgue ;
so called by the natives of neighbouring parishes.
Bogg-bean. — The trefoil herb of the marshes.
BoGGiT. — Stuck fast as in a soft bog.
Boggles. — A general name for all beings which create an
earimess in man. In Scotland, more boggles are seen and
heard of than there are in all the rest of the world ; how
this comes to pass may be difficult to define, but so it is.
In every country of a similar form, composed chiefly of
hill and dale, rocks and wild mountains, we find the
natives having their boggles ; the Welsh and Swiss are this
way, and many others. But what have they in comparison
to the Scots ? what are their knockers and reckers, to war-
locks without end, worrico^as, kelpies, spunkies, wraiths,
witc/ties, and carlinesl what, a mere nothing— accounts of these
supernatural beings will appear in their proper order, and
show that the Scots are a nation not only famous for
religion, war, learning and independence; but also for
superstition, which practically proves this point in moral philo-
sophy, that fear attends the brave, as modesty does the
worthy ; and in proportion as the intellect is weak or strong.
78 BON BON
BoNELLO. — A bon aller amongst parting friends. These
meetings are generally merry to the last, they are then ex-
tremely sad.
KIRRCORMOCK'S BONELLO.
Kirrcormock's biyth lairdy, or he gaed awa,
To fight and to florrie, through wide India,
Invited his neebours about ane and a\
To gi'e him a merry bonello.
And sure it wad been baith a sin and a shame,
For ony ava to hae drunted ahame ;
The de'il a ane did sae, fu* gladly they came,
And breel'd at the lairdie's bonello.
The barmen did rattle their flails ow're the bawks.
The millers did hushoch their melders in sacks.
And hung the best braws that they had on their backs.
To flash at the funny bonello.
The hizzies a tramping their claise at the bum,
That day they had nathing to whine 'bout nor yum ;
In their bowies wi* barehochs, they plunged their turn.
And fluchter'd about the bonello.
The mowdieman cuist down his petals and traps.
The herd left his hirsle amang the green taps,
And the milk-maid she scrubbed and scyringed her naps.
And hasted awa tae bonello.
For sic an a shine, was seldom ere seen,
Auld Scotlan' did vow she had ne'er wi her e'en
Beheld ought to match 'd since the ** Kirk on the Green/'
'Twas a noble conducted bonello.
In the welkin fu* hie, the moon beamed bright.
Ne'er a clud came across her the hale o' that night ;
How the lasses, fu' charming, did skip in her light,
Up the glens to the darling bonello.
And mony a laddie, wi' bosom sae warm,
Half carried his dearie alang on his arm.
For the hizzies that night, the frost-bitten cud charm,
It was an enchanting bonello.
The hale was delightfu — the binks they were pang*d.
Time about roun' the laugh and the blether ding-dang'd,
Fowk could na a' sit now, were they to be hang'd,
Sae af gaed the dance and bonello.
What huzzas now did follow — the kipplings rang.
On their taptaes what couples did jicker and spang.
Whan the pipers play'd up, how they fimmer'rl alang.
Heels cracking to cheer the bonello.
BON BON 79
The mowdieman's shoon being sparrable paved,
How he duner'd, and hooh'd, and thumped, and raved,
While the stroods, that the bannen the barley wi* kaved,
Gaed clampering through the bonello.
In jugs and decanters, and noggins and kits,
The drink it did circle, and mirth took her fits ;
Nae glumfie chiel sat, wi' his sneers and his skits.
Scrutinizing the famous bonello.
How the breasts o* the bare-necked lasses did heave —
Round pair after pair. Love's nets she did weave,
Frae ither fu' easily hearts they did reave,
O! the joys o' the lovely bonello.
Thus, wi* dancing and drinking, the night slided by,
Till Sol, wi' his gowd gilt the Easilin sky,
And mony a drunken chiel ouzily did ly,
A bumpling wi' the bonello.
Kirrcormock himsell was as fou' as a witch,
He danced till his lisk was beset wi' a stitch.
For a', while his shanks after him he cud hitch,
He keep'd up his glorious bonello.
Sair wauchled the hizzies were or they gat hame ;
Some seemed in a dalldrum, yet fu' o' game ;
And twa'r-three moons after did swaul i' the wame,
Wi' hougheling at the bonello.
For the sake o' auld Scotlan, sae every gude chiel,
Wha meaneth to lae her sud tak his fareweel ;
Or else wi' a vengeance be flung to the de'il,
And in hell baud his cursed bonello.
BoNSPiEL. — The highest game at curling — the chief spieL
When one parish, for instance, challenges another to play
it, at the famous Scottish game of curling, or channiestane,
that bout on the ice is called a bonspiel. The best players
on these occasions are selected to play, and when not only
their own honour, but that of their parish is at stake, they
do, or at least strive to do, their very best ; though often
good players are put into such a flutter at these times,
that they lose the steadiness of their han\ and play
badly : those who keep unmoved amid the crowd, and
pay no attention to either damns or huzzas, play always
best. The parishes of Borgue, Sorby^ and CloseburUy
8o BON BON
rank amongst the first of the curling communities in the
south of Scotland.
Sometimes cock-Iairds challenge other to fight a bon-
spieiy and often these concerns turn out to be wars in-
deed. The following poem depicts a broolzie of this
nature : —
THE BONSPIEL.
In Auld Scotlan' whan winter snell
Bin's up the fosey yirth,
Than jolly curlers hae a spell,
O' manly fun and mirth :
Whanerc the ice can har'ly bear
Ahame lie hurkling nane,
Wha likcth independant cheer,
And can a channel -stane
Owrhog that day.
But whiles our grand peculiar game.
Which ithers .1' surpasses ;
Is hurt by Gomfs, weel worth the name,
Vain bullieing senseless asses :
Akin tae them brave Hallions twa.
Laird Nurgle and I^ird Nabble,
'Bout wham I mean tae croon awa.
Or like a wilesteg gabble
A while this dav.
Their habits, tempers, a' are bad.
They're saucy, glunchy, greedy ;
Lan' they alike ay nearly had.
And tenants starving needy :
For far abroad they baith were bred,
Sae are o' kindness scarce av,
A savage life they lang had letl,
And lash'd puir Massa's arsie
On mony a day.
To curling they d'd baith pretend,
Sae challeng'd ane anither ;
Their farming slaves a han' maun lend.
And neither whinge nor swiiher ;
Twall on a side, the place Ix)ch Lum,
The rink just forty ell ;
The bet a puncheon o' gude rum.
Upon the ice ilsell,
Fu' fu' that day.
BON BON 8 J
And 'ere they did the play begin,
Ilk stamock gat a cauker,
For nane did think it was a sin
Most bonnily to tak her.
Ahin the quickly toomed glass.
How the wee finger twirled,
Than up in air a bawbee was,
For heads or tails hie birled
To lead that day.
Laird Nurgle had that triffling luck,
Sae his first player led ;
llie stane to his direction stuck,
But by the cock it fled ;
At which b^[an to fidge the laini.
And muttering to blame him ;
Laird Nabble's man na better fared,
For Nabble loud did damn him.
At first that day.
** Lay your stone right upon the tee,
** My sickar handed fellow ;
** My broom, if you're not blind, ye see,"
Fat Nurgle now did ycllo'.
The trimling player stells his tramps
\Vi' mony a stamping stog ;
Af gangs his stane, and ay it clamps,
But hoh portule, a hog —
It grunts that day.
What language now frae Nurgle fell,
His phiz had on a horrid thraw ;
What oaths he let, ne'er heard in Hell,
Warm frae the Gulph o' Florida.
Lean Nabble than gaed out the word —
** Be white ice to the witter ;
** You're, ye are not worth a t — d,
•* Ye seem tae hae the sk r,
" Or bloit this day. "
O ! was na that a darling game,
And worthy imitation ;
Ye wha do understand the same,
Ye standards o' our nation —
Had they been on Loch Duddingston,
And no Loch Lum, we're thinking,
Few ends indeed they wa.i hae thrown,
But aff been hissed linking,
Fu' fast that day.
F
82 BON BON
Whanere a Scotchman turns a slave
He is na worth a hoddle ;
Before the brave — below a knave
Will cringe, they'll want the noddle.
Though there are some, we're wae to tell»
Feet soles are fond o' licking,
Will stick to tyrants, even to Hell,
And bear their sneers and kicking
Frae day to day.
But still the bonspiel drives awa,
The ice was weak and slagie ;
The stanes wad scarce gang up ava,
ITiey grew sae unco clagie.
Ill nature pued do^*'n every brow.
The lairds they swore and choked ;
There common sense did loit and spue,
And wisdom aften boked
Wi' a brash that day.
Thus frothing on, ilk noble side
Wi* blustering wan a game ;
A' corked were alike wi pride,
A Gomeril's near the same.
This minute was a bullierag.
And that a blue erruction ;
At length did burst the meikle bag
Which caused the destruction
O* the spiel that day.
As Nurgle raved about the cock,
A stane came up the rink.
And hit his heel a canny shock,
On that wV joy we think —
For down he whurled upon Ix)ch Lum,
Some crawing cockaleerie ;
And span awhile upon his bum
Like Toutom, or queer pecrie,
Al>out that day.
But sprachling up a madman now .
See how he lays about him ;
I^inl Nabble cudna see his crew
Abused — never doubt him.
A battle general began,
Wi' brooms and neives they lingeil,
And niony a wee bit foolish man
Was getting himscU swinged
In siilc thnt ilav
BON BOR 8.
Till hah ! the lochen gaed a rair,
And af in blavvds divided ;
Down sank the gows amang the glaur.
Or else the water lided.
Yet han' in han' they reached dry Ian',
Up to the chin w^eel cooled ;
Then hame puir draggled cuifs they ran,
Magnificently fooled.
And dub'd that day.
Dear social honest countrymen,
Ixjt despots never dinnle
Your manly bosoms — for will then
Nae pleasure through them trinnlc.
I )etest those sooking turkey-cocks,
For ever jibing, jeering,
And heed as little's yon grey rocks,
Their guldering domineering
On ony day.
B(X) — To make a sound like bulls. These animals make
three kinds of noises, expressed by the words booing^
crooning^ and billieing. Two Galloway priests, once passing
a fellow who was good at flinging everything into rhyme —
(juoth the one to the other, " I hold ye a sixpence.
Clinking Charlie will be beat with what I say to him?"
Done, says the other: so, when they passed the poet,
the priest held out his finger at him, sounding boo, when
the man of clink instantly returned —
' * Mr. Scott and Mr. Boyd
** O* wit and learning they are void ;
" For, like Billjock amang the kye,
They boo at fowk as they gae by. "
<(
It is needless to add, that the clergymen slunk away,
somewhat offended at the retort of Clinking Charlie.
BooNMOST — Uppermost.
Boost — Must.
BoRGUE — One of the most singular and celebrated parishes
in the south of Scotland, and one too of the very best that
is to be found in any country. The following j^oem, by an
old bard of the name of Hackston, iK'longing to the said
84 BOR BOR
• parish, I here give, altered somewhat of course to suit my
own foolish taste, and, perhaps, partly wTOte by myself^
as my muse is quite ready with her aid, when anything
occurs, poorjade^ that she can help me too —
THE PARISH O' BORGUE.
Blest be the bard wha can twine out his lays
To any grist, in thae great twining days ;
Wha can plait cables, whan he has the thread,
Within the haums o* his uncommon head :
Can send his muse to India for a time.
To wallow sweetly in that luscious clime
'Mang ladies, harams, and delicious flowers.
Melodious groves, and lovely vernal showers ;
Or up amang the duds, the clever wench.
Far frae yirth's beauty, or her unco stench,
To step about amang the stams, and see
A thousan' queer things wi' her gledgin* e'e ;
Car' takin tho' to keep in sight o* hame.
For fear some hule might scare her flight to fame,
And ow're a comet's tail gae lay and skelp her.
Without ane being near at han' to help her.
For me, I care na tippence whar we go,
Whether tae lift, or fumart holes below ;
Whether to bonny isles ayont the sea,
Alall ydlies Hallan^ or the Brig o* Dee^
Whar Brumstane Dallies fired a peat-stack.
And burnt a pedlar ance to get the pack ;
Aroun the moon, or Muncrai^s gurly shore,
Whar pasper grows, and slavering pellocks snore ;
Whar Connel fell and brake his neck and scull
Ane Sabbath day, when berrying, lucky Gull,
Adown the heugh the chiel reel'd a' to brash —
His banes and eggs met an unwelcome crash.
Enow, tho' Borgue, my muse wi* pith and glee,
Means thee to croon, for, faith, thou pleaseth me ;
And I've heard singing 'bout some spout or bum.
Perhaps, nae better than our ain Pttlhvhum ;
'Bout hills and tomacks too, faith, by the gross.
Perhaps na bonnier than the Mool or Ross ;
W^i shores and caves whar gurly wuns do bio',
As by Nockbrax and ancient Carlines co\
O ! famous parish for the Broums and SprbalSy
The like o't s na on this side John o' Groats.
True honest chiels and merry bunts o' lasses,
I've tooted wi' ye mony whusky glasses,
Spent mony a happy day amang ye trouth.
And ay ye hac keep'd me sai>])ie 'IkuU the mouth.
BOR BOR 85
There's Blair 0' Seiiwick^ what a darling cheel,
May he ne'er feel the clutches o' the De'il;
For weeks thegether he has keep'd me swimmin
In Hollan gin wi' him how aften raemin.
Auld MiUdroch too, I wuss him ay fu' hale,
At the sawih Uggft — mony a worthy tale
We twa hae gat, and cracking, drunk our fill
O' hame made maut and sometimes trickle yill,
While auld Matninriy the hule for clubbing lees,
For nursing flowers, and skepping hives o bees,
Sat, like a sage, aside the chimlew lug.
And fancied queer things owre the faeming jug.
The Deacon's an uncouth, but clever fallow.
He is na dult, gude faith, he's nae way shallow.
And at the Ross, wi' yawcking Johnif Dmvall^
And Manksmen gabbling frae the nianor-hoU ;
What naggins hae we drank o' smuggled rum.
Just hot frae aff the Isle d three legs come.
^xcjoach cheers me, it cows ought ere I foun',
Except the lovely blinks o' Mary Cun ;
Sweet Mary, shining wi' a thousan' charms.
The loveliest saul ere lay in Hackstands arms ;
What happy hours upon the buesty grass
O' Camiehill I hae towzled wi' my lass.
Borgue lads delight to marry lasses bonny.
Yet scorn to gang frae hame to seek for ony ;
They'd tak a sister o' their ain, by Jove,
Afore they'll through anither parish rove :
Sae blest am I gets ane as bright's the sun,
Without gaun far the Iwnny Mary Cun.
Nae Sillar sawnies on the Borness shore
Can sparkle like the e'en dang Ilackston owre ;
Nae waving tangle, at low-water mark.
Can match her hair for shading light and dark ;
Nae sleek wee cobbles, gn the wave-washed beach,
Beshape her bosoms — that they canna reach ;
But bletherin this way's unco silly fun,
For nought on yirth to me's like Mary Cun;
But e'en thout her, auld Borgue I wad adore,
Ay, every rummling-kim about its shore:
Tho', my dear Mary, i'the mirkest night,
Maks me run far, to hug my lassy tight.
The Plunton Castle howlets wild may cry.
And ghaists alx)ut Barrloch, yawp — ** Hackston fie,"
Cullraven^ s auld gibb cats eternal mew,
Mossnefs ten-headed gomf might come in view.
And ilka collie after me might run,
Hackston should see his deary Mary Cun.
O ! Mary Cun and Borgut to me are dear,
And shall be sae while alive can steer ;
Whan I am dead, may they their hoary bard
Clap i'the mools o' Srnicick's lane khk-yo/d:
86 1K)R BOS
Aside the auld giule friens wha mony a day
Took pity on my haffets growing grey.
And at my head set up an auld sea sclate,
\\V thae words on't, coined in my curious pate —
** Here Hackston lies, Bori^ais lonrat mony a year
** Without his saul — whar's it, we canna hear ;
•' He liked rhyme, was fond o' the wee drap,
** And now he sleeps as sound as ony tap."
But why thus talk, whan I'm a sturdy man
I'll aff tae chieftain curlers on Nockann^
And see the fun, the pith o' mcikle banes,
Sends whunnering up the rink the channel-stanes,
I'll ablins get a dram o' whusky there.
Syne I'll be crouse as ony tipped hare.
Kirkcubricy Twinholm^ Girthott^ canna craw,
Borgu€ bids them kiss her , she beats them a'
At bonspiels, ay, o' what a shilpet crew.
Sic pewtring bodies, curse me, ne'er I knew :
Come never here, ye druken hallion Sloarty
Wi' a' your flum, let us in Borgue alone ;
Borgue is a pure, a spotless lawland clan,
Chain'd heart and hand thegether man and man :
Nae grubbing strangers here dare cock their nose,
Puir bodies may, tho' she be kind to those,
Wi' ony ithers, soon she is insulted,
Forbes can fley them, faith, frae out the pulpit.
Wi' faces, ay, as white as ony starch,
They wad be joustled clean out owre the march,
For mang our clints and hags, and rashy bogs,
Chiels do appear, can claw a fallow's lugs :
A glorious squad they are, baith one and a',
They're no hauf matched in a' wild (Jallowa :
While Hackston doth their sprightly baimies teach,
While Forbes can like ony stentor preach ;
W^hile bonny lasses in the Boreland thrive.
And nowt in Semvick Parks can southward drive ;
While Samuel Cloon^ in Ross can sit fu' cross.
While i^eats are got in Plunton^s glaury moss ;
While craws at Barma^iachin^ yearly big,
And lasses at the kirk look unco trig,
Borgue shall be famous throughout auld Scotland,
Her woo^ and hinnit never left on hand.
BoRGUE-HiNNiE — BoFgue honcy. This article is of such good
quality, ^hat the fame of its excellence spreads far and wide.
In London there is a sign, with Borgue hinnie for a^r^ wrote
on it.
Boss — A fat consequential man.
Boss IE— Bosom.
BOS BOW 87
Bou— To bend.
BoucH — One of a curr-dog's barks.
BouTGATE — A\Tien a plowman starts from one latiden or headn'g,
plows to the other, and returns to where he broke off, he is
said to have gone a boutgate ; as also the distance which
mowers can go at a sharps or with one sharping of the
scythe. This is also termed a boutin or boutgate,
BouKiN Linen — Boiling linen webs with lees, in order to
lay them out to bleach.
BouLS — The bended handles whereby several vessels are
moved anyAvhere.
BowEROCK — An huddled lump of any thing. Big on to the
bowcrcocky a term at curling, and means, to direct the stone
to where a number are already laid.
BowERTREE-PUFF. — An hollow tube made of Boretree, used
by kili-men to blow through, and rouse their seed fires, or
nres fed by the husks of corn.
Bowie — A washing-tub.
Bowk A XL — Cabbage.
BowLHivE — ^A deadly distemper, common amongst infants.
BowLOCH — A person with ill-shaped legs.
Bowls — Basons of a small size, made of earthen ware.
BowT — An iron bolt
BowT. — To start up suddenly is to bncft up ; as a person,
when come up to the surface again, after plunging beneath
water. This word, and the English "boyant" are one
and the same.
Ik)W-W(nv — A (log's bark, when he first smells strangers.
BowzE. — A set-to for some time at eating and drinking.
88 BOW BRA
BowziE. — Looking fat like. A man is said to be so that
fills his waiscoat well.
BoYTOCH — A thick short little animal ; bad at walking.
Bra or Braw. — Well dressed : neat.
Brack. — A break.
Brack an Egg. — A curling phrase, given by the directors
of the game to those about to play ; and means, that
they are to strike a stone with their*s, with that force
that it would break an egg between them at the point of
contact
Brae. — The brow-side of a hill.
Brag and Pairs. — A rustic game at cards.
Bragwort. — Mead. A fermented liquor, made from honey :
a 7aor/ that can drag all others for being so good. Hence
the name bragwort. After the bees are smtdked in the
Jiinharrest time^ the gude wife takes the kaimes out of the
skep^ and lets the hinny drop out of them before the fire ;
when this is done, she takes these combs or kaimes and
steeps them in water. This water, warmed and quickened
with bartn, composes bragwort. It is an extreme sweet and
pleasant drink ; when put in bottles it is apt to break
them. That person is a particular favourite in that house,
when, by making a call, he is treated with a draught of
bragivort. If he be a young man of fair character, looking
out for a wife, and this house be a place where fair dames
are, he is sure to taste bragwort. It may be called with
propriety the " lover's drink."
Braiggle. — Any old, unsafe article — as a large gun with
a large lock.
Braird. — Com as it appears above the ground a little after
it has been sown, when it begins to " beard."
BRA BR^\ 89
Brairded-dykes. — Fences bearded with whins, thoms, or other
brushwood, to hinder cattle from getting over them.
Brallion. — An unwieldy man.
Brange. — To kick, to plunge, and knock things to desolation,
like a mad horse.
Branks. — Old wooden bridles, also a disorder of the neck.
Branner. — A brander.
Brash. — A watry fit of sickness.
Brashloch. — Rubbage.
Bratchie. — Indian rubber. That elastic gum which comes
from the Indian tribes, used for defacing the marks of wadd,
or black lead.
Brats. — Aprons ; also rags ; also children in rags.
Bratt. — ^The scum of any fluid.
Brattle. — To rattle.
Braun. — An old boar.
Bravely. — Very well.
Brawchton. — Any thing weighty and unwieldy.
Brawd. — Any large rude article.
Brawly. — The same with bravely.
Brawnet. — ^A colour made up of black and brown, mostly'
relating to the skins of animals. A " nowt beast o* a brawnet
• colour " takes a south-country man's eye next to that o' the
" slae black."
Braws. — Dresses. The grandest of these are generally farthest
" ben " the wardrobe. Hence we say of any one when we
see them more gaudy than usual, that the " boddom 0' the kist
has been a looking at ."
Braxy. — A disorder prevalent amongst sheep, and in general
a very fatal one. The animal soon dies after infected.
90 liRA BRA
and there is no cure for it as yet discovered that can be
said to avert the evil. Sheep in good condition are those it
makes great havoc of. That kind of weather with hoar
frost after rain is the worst for it ; shepherds then are sure
to have much mortality amongst their flocks. Braxy is
a malady attended always with an abominable stench.
Strangers unused to it cannot for some time suffer it at all.
Their smelling organs will not endure it ; and much longer
are they in bringing themselves to be able to eat the flesh
of the poor animals who perish, let it be boiled, stewed,
roasted, or any way .dressed. All the spice in the world will
not keep down the noxious smell. The braxy effluvia keeps
still uppermost : the daught predominates. In truth, it is
not a very wholesome food. Those feeding much on it
become blotched, and not unfrequently are troubled with
that filthy disease, the yaws.
Braxy-hams. — The hams of those sheep which die of the
braxy. When the herd finds any of his flock dead of that
distemper, if they can stand three shakes — that is to say,
if they be not so pu trifled or rotten but that they can
stand to be thrice shaken by the neck without falling to
pieces — then he bears them home to his master's house
on the braxy sfulty. What of the carcases can then be
ham*d, are done, and the rest of the flesh made present
use of by the family. The hams thus cut out are hung
up in the smuiky brace, until they are quite dry. They
are then bound in bunches, like so many hare-skins,
and suspended on nags and clicks, in convenient parts of
the roof of the kitchen, and used now and then for
very singular purposes. As for instance, when a club
of burn trout fishermen, or one of viuirfule sportsmen
come the way of the house, they are hospitably entertained
at table with plenty of braxy hatn, and other dainties ; for
the natives of the moors are a kind people, and generally
keep what is understood by a fu' house. Now I am not
BRA }]RE 91
sneering at present ; but honestly saying, that a male o' sic
foody washed down by a few glasses oi peat reek, or tumblers of
brag7aorty please a hungry kyte very much, and cause one to
fall in love with mountaineers. For braxy is by no means
bad food, when ham*d ; the smell then in a great measure
leaves it Like^vise these hams sometimes adorn the
saddle-bow of a moorland lover, when he starts a horse-
back to seek a wife, and are considered to aid him much
in making his putt-gude with any girl he takes a fancy
for, particularly if she be a laich fiel lass ; though he is
often disappointed in this speculation. However, on the
whole, there is worse furniture to be found in a house, in
cold, snowy, wintry weather, than plenty of braxy ham,
Braxy Sheltv'. — A little rough poney kept by moor farmers
to bring home braxy sheep.
Breasted. — Leaped, by first throwing up or over the breast.
Those who mount horses without stirrups, are said to
"breast on to their bare backs." Girls sneering at short
little men, often say, " that they cudna breast a ratton af
a peat"
Brechams. — Collars for horses; anciently they were made
entirely of straw, and called " Strae brechams."
Breckan. — The fern.
Breckany Braes. — Rural solitudes, growing with fern; the
haunts of innocence and rustic poets.
Breeds. — Breadths. Girls talk of how many breeds d prent
wll make them 2i frock,
Breeks. — Breeches.
Breel. — To reel ; to make a noise.
Breest-banes. — The breast-bones of fowls. They are bones
of a forked figure. Two persons engage to pull the
fork apart with their little fingers. They draw against
each other, and the person who gets the largest share of
92 BRE BRO
the bone left in hand when it breaks, is said will be
married first.
Breeze. — To bruise.
Brentbrows. — Having a smooth forehead, not wTinkled.
Brew. — Opinion. This word deserves further consideration.
" I ha'e nae great brew o' that man," is often said, and
means, " I have no great opinion of that man." Also, '* I
ha'e a good brew," which signifies the reverse. Now, this
" brew *' cannot be allied to " broe^^ sap or fluid of some
kind, but may be to " brow,'' the front of the brain, as those
who read phizzes place much dependance on w^hat they
find on the brow ; still this comes not to the point. I am
flung back to " brew,''' — and this may mean, to make, to
conceive ; as ale is brewed; for we are said to be a
" brewing " when we are thinking. So the word, for all,
may come from this : " I ha'e nae great brew." — There is
. no brewing in the brain of any consequence.
Bricht-lintie. — A bird of the linnet tribe.
Bridling Rapes. — Ropes which hold down the thatch on stacks.
They are woven into the mvrgaun aties, or those which are
vertical over the concent, and are not rolled up like them
when made, but twisted together in a longer shuttle form.
Brig. — Bridge.
Brilch. — A short thick impudent person.
Brisket. — The breast
Brislin. — Bristlin.
Brither. — Brother.
Broaches. — Wooden spindles to put pirns on, to be wound
of.
Brochen. — A fat mixture to feed young calves.
Brock. — Refuse of anything ; rotten straw.
Brock. — The badger.
BRO BRO 93
Brocket. — Like a badger in colour, black and white.
Brock-holes. — Badger dens.
Brod. — Board.
Brods. — Window-shutters.
Broe. — Sap, juice, &c. of any thing.
Broese. — Broth.
Broggle. — To make a bad hand of a job ; to be unhandy.
Broich. — To be warm and sweating much, is to be in a
" broich " with sweat.
Broot^ies or Broozles. — Rows in the rural world. The
old poem of " Christ's Kirk on the Green " is of this na-
ture; also an unknown one, here to follow, termed
The BEE-IIIVE.
Whan May comes in wi* mochey showers,
And blinking suns, sae wanning.
The bees, amang her bonny flowers,
Are smioking and swarming.
Frae bud to bloom they bizz wi' speed.
For virgins ay they're striving ;
Young queens their cores abroad do lead
To where the merry hiving
Will hand that day.
>
And aften far they'll tak a flight
Owre hills, and hags, and mosses ;
Before they think it's time to light,
Which mony a body crosses ;
As was the way wi' Archy Bell,
Whan his tap swarm did flee
Out owre Bentoutlier's buesty fell.
And down tae Lowdenlee
Fu' straught ae day.
This Archy was a gree<ly curse.
And glie'd at things about ; —
He pat the bawbee in his purse.
But seldom took it out.
His mmd was no as braid's ane's loof ;
He had na heart ava ;
Was just a grubbing, shyling cuif,
Fu' fit to gi'e ill jaw.
The lee lang day.
94
BRO BRO
A bee-man lang the chiel had iK'cn,
Keep'd mony a winter stale,
And sell'd the hinny ay aff dean,
\Vi* Kannock-wax fu* hale.
Xa hragwort ere was brewn by he
For scuiiifu's to sloken,
A slang about the neb, or c'e,
Wad har'Iy make him gloken —
On ony day.
Amaist, like Bonar, he a skep
Cou'd paise and sleely han le ;
The smooking them ne er made him weep,
\Vi* lowing brumstane can'le.
'i'lieir dying sough did please his lug —
That sad confused lamenting ;
Hut feelings he had nane to tug,
Which throweth some, repenting —
On mony a day.
O, is it na a horrid thing.
Sic myriads to slaughter,
For a' the cash the prize can bring,
And yet to do't in laughter ? —
W^hich Archy unco often did.
And snork'd his snuff fu* cheery ;
At length, however, he was chid.
And ne'er again was merry —
Wi* bees ae day.
The hive which warped owre the fell,
As formerly was stated.
Was followed warmly by himsell —
O how he pech'd and sweated !
And now and then would glowre for it
Up i' the lift uflcloudy.
Than something whiles wad keep his tit.
And whurl him heels owre gowdie —
Wi' a thud that dav.
Whiles too as thus he rowd and sten'd,
And clinched it awa.
He'd slonk adown, or ere he ken'd,
A miry, quacking quaw,
Or glauroch, far alwon the knee,
Through some blue rashy gullion,
The hive ay keeping in his e'e,
A grim disjasket rullion
He was that day.
Thus driving down on Ix)wdculec
As hard as he cou'd smack,
Against a whunstane dyke gae*^ he,
Rcboundinj; arsct l>.ick.
BRO BRC) 95
Queer rings o' mony a different hue
Did whirl afore his een ;
Some were a yellow, ithers blue,
And some were livid green —
We true that day.
The dwamel aff, he skellie's roun',
But cou'd na see a bee ;
Ay, sure he heard their bizzing soun\
Tho* them he cou'd na see.
But whether it was the bomf he got,
That made his lang lues tingle,
lie ken'd na, and away did trot.
Again what he cou'd wingle —
That weary day.
Till Girzy Grey, down i' the lee,
A cross-grained wrinkl'd wicker.
Sees Archy wi' her reek'd e'e.
And cries, ** Whare's thLs, ye bicker? "
** Come here, gudeman, and len' a han' —
( **0 dinna by me hasten)
•* And let us skep gin that we can
** My gude tap swarm here casten,
* * This bonny day. ' '
" Ve lee, ye bitch," (roars Archy out)
** I won'er o' ye Grizzel ;
*' Ye'll get some day for it, I doubt,
** A whaling till ye whizzle.
*' The hive is mine ; it flew frae hame
'* About an hour sincesyne,
• * And after it I was na lame : —
•* D'ye think that I shall tyne
** My bees this day."
'* Your bees ! " (quoth she to Archy Bell)
" Faith, that's a talc indeed !
(), Archy, man, to de'il in hell,
** Ve're cantering wi' speed.
" Though I be auld, and often 's ca'd
•* A wallow'd wicketl scranny,
" Dread ye the claws, my sneeling lad,
*' O' feckless Wullcat granny,
"Or curse this day.'"
Baith own'd the hive, tho' it was thought
To neither to belang;
Hailh owre it stood, and raged, and fought.
And scrateil, punsed, and flang.
liaith gut a skep, and baith wad hac't.
In their's to make its mantion ;
Hut nane o' them had luck to get
The Qid'Cfi's most gracious sanction
rt'»<'n that dav.
96 BRO BRU
Up rase her swarm, frae whar it hang«
In bunch below a broom,
And did the haveralls nicely stang,
Weel worthy sic a doom.
How Archy swaul'd, and roun* did loup I
How gim'd the wizen'd spirran,
For some crawl'd up, and hov'd her doup,
And did na miss her birran,
'Tis said that day.
Whaever tweillie about bees,
Thae bees will never thrive,
Nor thae saes Providence decrees
Wha fashes wi' the hive.
** Let a' industrious tribes alane ! "
True Wisdom's ay resounding.
Sae will this world wi' grief neVr grane,
Nor broyliments, confounding,
Appear na day.
Brounies. — Nocturnal beings, which thrashed farmers'
com, and did other laborious jobs, for which the guii^
7c>ives, as Milton says, " had the cream bowl duly set.'*
They were seldom seen. Some think they were of no
supernatural origin, but distressed persons, who were
obliged to conceal themselves, and wander about, during
some of the past turbulent ages.
Browst. — A brewing, a mighty making of anything.
Broyliment. — A mighty commotion of some kind or
other. When a black bank of clouds is seen to rise in the
south, and a noise or mighty soughing of the sea is heard,
then a broolimcnt of the weather is at hand. Indeed,
rookeries^ or storms of any kind, are fully expressed by
the word. It is still connected, one way or other, with ii
broil,
Bruckle. — Brittle.
Bruckle-bread. — Brittle-bread.
Bruff'd. — Thickly cloathed.
Brugh about the Moon. — A kind of thin hazy vapour
which seems to infold the moon sometimes We behold
it between her and her radiance, but are not aware
BRU BUG 97
of its existing, was it not for the moon ; as, but for this sign,
the nocturnal sky seems without clouds or mists of any kind.
The brugh or ruff, round the silvery orb, is very beautiful —
so white and snowy just before the disk — then shading away,
till the circimiference of the fold is drawn by the intruding
darkness, whiles it is called the faul about the moon^ or fold.
The signification of brough is a gathering of foul matter, a
collection of rubbish ; so when it is seen, those skilled in
the weather prophesy that there is going to be some onfa\
or other — either of rain or something worse.
Brunstane. — Brimstone.
Brunstane cannles. — Matches made of paper and brimstone,
to suffocate bees.
Brunt. — Burnt
Bryme. — Salt brine.
BuBBLiEjocK. — A name for the turkey-cock.
BuBiES. — The breasts.
BuCHANiTES. — A singular sect of religious fanatics that first
made their appearance in the neighbourhood of Glasgow
about fifty or sixty years ago. From thence they came to
Buchan hd^ in the parish of Gloseburn; and now the
remnant of the core remain at a place in Galloway, called
the Crooked-ford^ a place about eight or nine miles west
from Dumfries. Their founder was a Mrs. Buchan, the
wife of a dyer in Glasgow. She was a very tall, strong
woman ; or, in the Scottish, a strapping hizzie. Her husband
and her having had some dispute, she flung aside her ////
pots^ and left off the colouring of matter for the colouring of
mind, and was so fortunate as soon to have many followers,
all dipped in one dye. Amongst these was a fellow of the
name of White, a coUeged priest, as he was termed, — a fellow
\vho had been bred up for the church in some university,
but having a weak brain, unfit to hold the learning that was
98 BUG BUG
poured into it, he so became a fit subject for waiting upoTi
Mrs. Buchan, and frantic as she could possibly be. Whit ^
however, aided her cause very considerably. He was quL te
an Abbo Bekar to Mahomet. When the innocent countM7
people heard that a real priest, a minister of the word, ha.<J
become a BuchanitCy they gathered in from all quarters, and
became so likewise.
One of her chief tenets was, that all who followed her
and her doctrine would go to heaven without tasting of
death, like Elias, and that too, on a certain day which she
prophesied — for she always wished to be looked on as a
prophetess, and that she alighted on earth at the Clauchan
d Tfwrnhilly from heaven, keeping still the //// vats in the
Gorbals of Glasgow out of sight At long and length the
glorious day arrived on which they were all to be taken
to the regions above, where endless happiness existed, and
pleasure for evermore. Platforms were erected for them
to wait on, until the wonderful hour arrived, and Mrs.
Buchan's platform was exalted above all the others. The
hair of ilka head was cut short — all but a tuft on the top,
for the angels to catch by when drawing them up. The
momentous hour came. Every station for ascension was
instantly occupied. Thus they stood, expecting to be
wafted every moment into the land of bliss, when a gust
of wind came ; — but, instead of wafting them upwards, it
capsized Mrs. Buchan, platform and all ! and the fall
made her all hech again on the cauld yird. After this un-
expected downcome, she fell into disgrace by her leaders,
and her words had not so much weight with them ; still,
however, a great number clung by her; and one night
(she having been ailing for some time before) a fit came
on her, out of which she never recovered; but her dis-
ciples, thinking it to be a trance into whicfi she had fallen,
expected her to awake; but no signs of this appearing
for some days, and her body beginning to have a putrid
BUG BUG 99
smell, they thought it prudent to bury it in the earth beside
the house ; and by her have been laid all those of her sect
who have since died. — So ends the tale of Lucky Buchan,
She would allow none of her followers to marry, or have any
love-dealings with other ; so the tribe soon weeded away and
became thin. It is said that there were many bastard
baimies appeared amongst them ; but that they hardly ever
let them behold the light Be this as it may, their general
character all along has been, quite harmless. They were, and
yet are, a very industrious people, and have been long un-
matched at making Wee Wheels and Chackreels^ plying the
turning-loom to great perfection. They are all, howeveir, of
rather a wild frantic nature, and seem to want " some pence of
the shilling, a penny or more." After all, they have been an
odd concern ; and to think they arose in Scotland, a place
** Whar lair and light, are at sic a height,"
is a thing to be wondered at Many pamphlets and songs
have been wrote respecting this species of Mahometans \
but none of them that I have seen seem to have any touches
of talent worthy of remark.
BucKBEARD. — A kind of hard fog, of a white nature, which
is found growing on rocks — often it is seen in the form
of a wine-glass, or inverted cone, and looks very beautiful ;
it is not used now-a-days for any thing I know of, but
anciently the witches found it an useful ingredient in a
charm mixture.
BucKiES. — Fruit of a certain kind of brier. There are three
species of " buckiberries " in the country — a long green
kind, good to eat, grows on lofty bushes ; another much
like them, but grows on higher bushes, and never ripens
well ; and a third kind, about the size of a sloe, or larger, and
of the same colour, which grows on a dwarfish brier, thought
to be somewhat poisonous.
8JiO^Vi^
loo BUG BUL
Buckie Lice. — The seed of the buckie ; it much resembles
lice.
BucKiN. — Striking.
Buckle. — ^To fix.
Buck nor Croon. — An animal is said to be unfit to do either
of these, when it can neither strike nor make a noise,
though willing to do both.
Bucks and Kids. — A school-game. See " Dooi^."
Buck-teeth. — Outstanding tusks.
Buffer. — A boxer — a Crib ; a blackguard — a man detested
amongst men.
Buff nor Stye. — A phrase which signifies — I know nothing
about it, neither more nor less, neither in one respect nor in
another.
BuFFT. — The noise of a blow given on soft subjects, which
may be well conceived from this quotation from " Christ
Kirk on the Green " —
** He hit him on the wame a whap,
** It buflft like ony blether ;
** But ha ! his fortune was and hap,
** His doublet made o* lether —
** Saved him that day."
BuGHT. — A sheepfold.
Bulb or Bulboch. — A disorder with sheep ; when infected
they drink water until they swell and burst ; when swellecJ
they are of a bulbous form — Whence the name.
Bulla. — Brother.
Bullirag. — A dispute with words — " words that often come tcF
blows."
BuLLiSTERS. — Large sloes, common on sea-shores ; for there
the sloe thorns spread on the beech like wall fruit trees,
as it were, on the walls before the sun.
BUM BUM loi
:s. — ^The wild humble bees. There are three kinds
ese bees common in Scotland — the black, the braw-
,nd the brown. The first has its nest deep in the
d, and they are generally found in very large colonies
ler; the second build and breed under ground too,
ot so deep as the others; and the third, or brown,
s on the surface. The sting of a wild bee is not so
nous as that of a tame one, neither are the bumbees
jrce as the others ; but will fly buzzing round and
I, and seldom dart in to sting — their bykes are robbed
ommon, without much trouble. The honey of bum-
s also quite weak and watry to that of the others ;
io they display great handy work in the formation of
combs; theirs are no hexagonal tubes, but dirty glo-
figures ; they are no craftsmen in truth, nor yet near
mble as the others in comparison ; yet who does not
to hear them in the spring bumming amongst the
saughs wV downie budSy or the opening leaves of the'
^ree. In an old riddle the three kinds are thus specified —
" As I cam ower the tap o* Tyne,
** I met a drove o* Highlan' swine ;
** Some o'm blacky some o'm brmotty
** Some o'm rig^ft ower the crown ;
** Sic a drove a Highlan' swine,
" I ne'er met on the top o* Tyne."
)CK. — The humming beetle of the evenings.
<i. — Humming.
E. — To fumble.
IN BRAWLV. — An old dance, the dance which always
balls ; the same with the " Cushion " almost
** Wha leam'd you to dance,
"You to dance, you to dance,
** Wha leam'd you to dance —
** A country bumpkin bra\» ly ?
" My mither leam'd me when I was young,
** When I was young, when I was young,
** My mither leam'd me when I was young,
** The country bumpkin brawly."
Auid Sang.
tune of this song is always played to the dance.
I02 BUM BUR
BuMSHOT. — When any plot gives way with us, we are said
to be bunishot,
BuMWHUSH. — When anything has made a noise for som^e
time, and is then quashed, it is said to have gone to tih.e
bumwhush. This is too often the way with people of gr&at
popularity; they have their day, then go all to the bumwhus-A.
BuNjELLS. — Burthens of straw ; fern.
Bunker. — A long chest, answering also for a seat
BuNN. — A hare's tail. •
BuNSE, — A short thick little girl.
BuRD. — Bird.
BuRD Alane. — Bird alone.
Burial House. — The house of mourning ; the house wherein
lies a corpse awaiting interment ; it is termed the burial
house but for one day, the day of the burial.
Burly Whush. — A game played at with a ball The ball
is thrown up by one of the players on a house or wall,
who cries on the instant it is thrown to another to catch
or kep it before it falls to the ground ; they all run off
but this one to a little distance, and if he fails in kepping
it, he bawls out burly whush; then the party be arrested
in their flight, and must run away no farther. He sin-
gles out one of them then, and throws the ball at him,
which often is directed so fair as to strike ; then this one
at which the ball has been thrown is he who gives buHy
whush with the ball to any he chooses. If the comer of
a house be at hand, as is mostly the case, and any of the
players escape behind it, they must still shew one of their
hands past its edge to the burly whush man, who some-
times hits it such a whack with the ball, as leaves it dirling
for an hour afterwards.
Burn. — A small river of water. These rivulets are fre-
quently very poetical objects in nature, when they steal
BUR BUR 103
" 'neath the lang yellow broom," or when " 'neath the brow
the burnie juiks ; " and on so. Tannahill has a good song
called Yon Burn Side ; and here follows a new one, of an
original stamp, termed —
THE SUNNY BURN BRAE.
My auld cronnie Pate has his sweet, sweet Kate,
And my darling Nannie I hae, hae ;
\Vi* her I roam, 3ie meadow and the howm.
And row on the Sunny Bum Brae, Brae —
And row on the Sunny Bum Brae.
Her shining hair is a yellowish fair.
And her e'en are as black as the slae, slae ;
O I were she in my arms, to towzle her charms.
Again on the Sunny Bum Brae, Brae —
Again on the Sunny Bum Brae.
O ! her singing to hear I do lo'e dear,
*Tis sweeter than the lammie's mae, mae ;
But to kiss her mou* is like Heaven I true,
On the green and Sunny Burn Brae, Brae —
On the green and Sunny Burn Brae.
My heart she has ta'en, O ! I find it's clean gane.
And I hope she'll ne'er let it gae, gae ;
Nor the want o't I'll no mourn — as her ain ane in return,
She gaed me on the Sunny Bum Brae, Brae —
She gaed me on the Sunny Bum Brae.
By the hinnysuckle tree, adown the flowery lee,
I like weel on the e'ening to stray, stray ;
But the hiny suckle tree is nought ava to me.
Like my love on the Sunny Bum Brae, Brae —
Like my love on the Sunny Bum Brae.
'XJRNBECKER. — The bird known also by the name of water-
^yety having a white breast, while the rest of its plumage
is black, and a frequenter of bums or streams of water;
it keeps its body in continual motion — beck — becking —
lience the name burnbecker. It is one of the poet's favourite
birds, not for its singing, for it sings none, nor for its
beauty, having also little of that; but because it haunts
places of deep solitude — lonely bums — ^where also do the
bards of nature.
^URNBLADES. — A large broad leaved plant, which is found
growing on the banks of bums.
I04 BUR BUT
BuRNT-STANES. — A curling term. When a stone in mo-
tion hits another in passing slightly, it is said to bum on
it; sometimes when they burn or rub rather roughly, they
are said to have got their burthen ; that is to say, they have
got as much of their motion retarded by one stone, as
hinders them to damage any more ; and when a stone in
motion hits the feet, or the broom of any player, not on
the same side of the game with that stone, it is allowed
to be played over again ; but if it hit one on its own side,
it is thrown off the ice ; for why it is a burnt-stane.
BuRRBLE. — Any thing in confusion. When a pirn of yam in
winding mns into disorder, it is then in a snurl or a burrbU.
BuRR-THRisTLES. — The Strongest of the thistle tribe. There
are five kinds of thistles common in Scotland — the burr
or horse thristle ; the com thristle ; the moss thristle; the
swine thristle ; and the Scotch thristle.
BuRSEN Kirns. — Those kirns which are cut with labour.
Thus, if the last of the crop cannot be got cut by the shearers
for all they can work until night be set in — then they say
they have had a bursen kirn \ they have burst themselves
almost before they got the last cut or girn shorn.
Bushes. — Iron or brass rings in the centre of wheels, to ke^I
down friction.
BusKET. — Neady dressed
Buss. — Bush.
But and Ben. — Kitchen and parlour.
Butt. — A mark. " Bowbutts," little hillocks of earth comni^^
in Galloway ; there are mostly two of them found n^^
other, within 150 or perhaps 200 yards; they were xX^
places shot at by our forefathers, when practising with xX^ ^
ancient weapons of war — the bow and arrow.
, Buttermilk Gled.— A bird of the falcon tribe ; it is o^
a cream colour, of the size of the common kite; som^
BYE CAB 105
think it is the male kite, but this cannot be so. It seems to
be a bird of emigration ; and, by its visiting us in winter,
bespeaks it comes from some arctic nation. Indeed,
Greenland is seen in all its moves ; it is savage and cold-
hearted. No burd d prey gives a clocken hen a greater
^ocken than the buttermilk gled,
Bye-him-sell. — Deranged in the intellect
Byke. — To whinge ; to ^eep and sob.
Bykes. — Bee nests ; also nests of angry people.
Byles. — Gatherings of bile on the body.
Bynall. — A tall lame man.
Byng. — A rude lump, or heap of anything, such as a pit full
of potatoes.
Byre. — A cowhouse.
Byre-plaid. — A plaid used about byres.
Byre-Woman. — The girl about farm-houses, whose duty it
is to look after the cows during the winter season ; these
girls for common are strong-boned persons, as able to give
a good lift as a man. There are always two chief female
servants about houses of this kind, called the " byrewoman,"
and the " kitch in woman," the cold half of the year ; and the
*^outaru*' and the ^^ innane" the other half; for in summer
cows are put out of the byre, I have heard that Nicholson
our poet has wrote a poem, ycleped veises on the " Death d
a Dairy maidy I wish I saw them.
Byrran. — The female nymphse.
c.
Qk\ — To call ; name ; and drive.
Cabbage Blades. — Blades of the cabbage plant, used to wrap
soft matters in, as butter.
io6 CAB CAE
I
Cabroch. — Stinking putrid flesh; food for the ravens and
greycrows.
Cadgell'd. — A person having got a rough ride is said to have
been cadgelVd ; cadgell, being to carry after a rough manner —
•* Fate ne'er intends us twa auld hags,
•* Twa Billy Neumls, or Scmmie Rags^
** To cadgell, keel, and ronnet bags —
** Ower a* the kintra, Geordy."
Epistle to George IVishari,
Cadger. — A carrier on horsebacL
Cadger te Creels and A*. — An expression representing a
cadger and all his appurtenances.
Caed. — Calved.
Caer Bentorigum. — ^A beautiful Roman camp in the parish
of Kirkcudbright ; it is on the top of a commanding hill,
and surrounded by deep trenches ; a more entire thing of
the kind is not in the south of Scotland ; some think it was
one of the posts of Agricola.
Caerslooth. — ^An ancient fortress on the sea shore, in the
parish of Kirkmabreek, Galloway ; it is a strength by
nature of the first kind ; a deep chasm cutting its site from
the main land, above twenty feet in width, and above fifty
in depth ; over this has been thrown a draw-bridge ; and
as the sides of the rock all round are extremely steep, it is
wonderful to conceive how a foe might gain possession of
it ; yet here it was that —
** Wallace lap, and Carlie clam."
He first threw his broad sword over the yawning chasm —
did the mighty Scots patriot ; then followed it by making
a tremendous leap himself. His fell comrade Carlie durst
not try that trick, but went down the precipice, and clam
up to the assistance of his friend — what brave fellows —
was a place ever taken by storm in such a manner — there
did they lay on like devils. Wallace took his great sword
CAE CAI 107
which was like the rafter of a house, both hands to the
handle, and mowed the southeron loons down before him ;
some of whom, rather than receive 2,fleg from his metal
keen, leaped over the heughy where they were dashed to
pieces below.
On the main land, and just beside where the grand en-
trance had been, stands a large smooth faced stone, with
many characters cut on it, but what these import no anti-
quarian as yet can tell.
Ca'es. — Calves.
Caff.— Chaff.
Caffie-heap. — A heap of oats before they are winnowed.
Cairn Hattie. — A large Galloway mountain ; on its top a
cloud generally reposes — a cowl or hat as it were — hence
the name hattie.
Cairns. — Hillocks of stones ; whiles they are built with care,
but oftener not ; they are common on the tops of hills ;
a number of them were built prior to dykes, as marks, to
shew lairds the marches or boundaries of their possessions.
In ancient burial grounds they are met with too ; our ances-
tors, like the natives yet of every uncivilized country, huddled
a number of stones on the graves of their dead.
" ni throiv a statu to your Cairti^'' was a phrase used in
the days of yore, and expressive of a kindness that would
be shewn persons even when dead — by throwing a stone
now and then to the cairtis on their graves. Chieftains of
course then, and people of note, would be honoured with
the largest caitns.
Cairns-moors. — There are three large hills or moors in
Galloway, called " Cairns-moors " —
** Cairns-moor o* Fleet,
•* Cairns-moor o* Dee ;
** But Cairns-moor o' Carsphaim
**'Sthe biggest o' the three."
They are about a couple of thousand feet above the level
io8 CAK CAN
of the sea. Vtrns, otherwise eagles, build their nests on
them — and amongst their wild rocks are pieces of beautiful
spar found, termed by the country people Cairns-nwor
diamonds. I have heard, too, of the door of the Cairns-moor
of FUety which is a very large cave that runs away into the
interior of the mountain, as yet, like the Piper's Cd d Cou*end^
unexplored.
Cakie. — The excrement of children.
C ALLAN. — ^A young person, either a boy or a girl.
Calledin o* the Blade. — A slight rain by which the blades
of grass are cooled and refreshed.
Callion. — Any thing old and ugly.
Camrell. — A piece of wood used by butchers, notched
on either end, used in hanging up carcases by the hind
legs.
Camshackled. — A quadruped is so, when its two fore legs
are " langled^^ or confined with a chain, so that it cannot
leap.
Camsteerie. — Restless ; given to quarrel.
Canglin. — Wrangling ; foolishly disputing.
Cankert. — Cross-grained \ ill-natured ; fretful; &c
Cankert King Cowan. — ^An old farmer wretch, who
lived at a place, some years ago, called the Blairs d Crce ;
he was extremely bad to his wife ; in short, there was not
one good quality about him. An Irish bard, who had
been stopping sometime in his neighbourhood, and who
knew his character well, would make a song on him — ^the
which I here give ; because it contains some genius, and
is wrote not only to a Galloway air, but in the Galloway
language ; some of the ideas however bespeak green Erin.
It gave me some furbishing ado before I got its grammar,
measure, and clink, in a fair looking passable way; but
CAN CAN 109
indeed the confessions of an old blackguard will never look
well —
My name's Johnnie Cowan the king o' queer fellows,
The devil the like o' me ere ye did see ;
My lun£[s they are stronger than ony smith's bellows,
Sae &r frae the grave than I surely man be.
But like the hom*d howlet that's a* the nicht screeching,
'Bout cuikin o' victuals am a' the day teaching ;
On washing o' dishes too I'd mak a preaching.
Wad bet ony sermon ere ranted on Cree.
I never am weel but whan discontented,
Sae my wife and me we do seldom agree ;
I lather her aften and never repent it ;
I wuss she wad tak the hint some day and dee.
I'd rather be boxing and scaulin the women,
And riving their cheeks till the bluid it came streaming
Then hae a brade river o' wine to gae swim in,
Exceeding in bigness the water o' Cree.
For how to get rich it is a' my desire,
Before that on whisky I'd spen' ae bawbee,
I'd rather sup sna brew that's made at the fire ;
My neebors ken weel what a miser I be.
I hunger my wyme, and my back I keep duddy.
For how to save sillar is a* my hale study ;
Ne'er think it ought strange tho' I gim in a wuddie.
Ay auld farmer Jock at the Blairs o' the Cree.
The first wife I had was a hule o' a woman,
But death was sae kind as to click her frae me;
To whripe for the dead is a sin unbecomin.
Sae never a tear left my blinkers for she.
Afore she tirl'd owre my prayers war fervant.
Death cam and the cheel did na gang 'thout his yerrand ;
But than my hale blame was I kiss d my ain servant.
Like mony mae else, on the water o' Cree.
Sae whan I had gotten my auld Lucky hurried,
My joy it rase up to highest degree ;
0 ! than my hale thought was again to get married.
For 'thout a bit hizzie I never cud be.
1 rade af on my naig than and courted my Rosie,
As plump as a pig and as gay as a posie ;
But little thought I she was frien to auld Nosie,
The bawdy house-keeper on the water o' Cree.
I took her for nane o' your gigglin gawkies,
Tho* she had a vile gate playin wink wi' her e'e ;
Her kisses war sweeter than frosty potatoes.
Ilk time that a smack o' her mou I did prie.
io6 CAB CAE
Cabroch. — Stinking putrid flesh ; food for the ravens and
greycrows.
Cadgell'd. — A person having got a rough ride is said to ha'v^e
been cadgelVd ; cadgell, being to carry after a rough manner^
** Fate ne'er intends us twa auld hags,
•* Twa Billy NewalSj or Sawnie Rags,
" To cadgell, keel, and ronnet bags —
** Ower a* the kintra, Geordy."
Epistle to George IViskart.
Cadger. — A carrier on horsebacL
Cadger te Creels and A*. — An expression representing sl
cadger and all his appurtenances.
Caed. — Calved.
Caer Bentorigum. — A beautiful Roman camp in the parish
of Kirkcudbright ; it is on the top of a commanding hill,
and surrounded by deep trenches ; a more entire thing of
the kind is not in the south of Scotland ; some think it was
one of the posts of Agricola.
Caerslooth. — ^An ancient fortress on the sea shore, in the
parish of Kirkmabreek, Galloway ; it is a strength by
nature of the first kind ; a deep chasm cutting its site from
the main land, above twenty feet in width, and above fifty
in depth ; over this has been thrown a draw-bridge ; and
as the sides of the rock all round are extremely steep, it is
wonderful to conceive how a foe might gain possession of
it ; yet here it was that —
** Wallace lap, and Carlie clam."
He first threw his broad sword over the yawning chasm —
did the mighty Scots patriot ; then followed it by making
a tremendous leap himself. His fell comrade Carlie durst
not try that trick, but went down the precipice, and clam
up to the assistance of his friend — what brave fellows —
was a place ever taken by storm in such a manner — there
did they lay on like devils. Wallace took his great sword
CAE CAI 107
which was like the rafter of a house, both hands to the
handle, and mowed the southeron loons down before him ;
some of whom, rather than receive 2i fleg from his metal
keen, leaped over the heugh^ where they were dashed to
pieces below.
On the main land, and just beside where the grand en-
trance had been, stands a large smooth faced stone, with
many characters cut on it, but what these import no anti-
quarian as yet can tell.
Ca'es. — Calves.
Caff.— Chaff.
Caffie-heap. — A heap of oats before they are winnowed.
Cairn Hattie. — A large Galloway mountain ; on its top a
cloud generally reposes — a cowl or hat as it were — hence
the name hattie.
Cairns. — Hillocks of stones ; whiles they are built with care,
but oftener not ; they are common on the tops of hills ;
a number of them were built prior to dykes, as marks, to
shew lairds the marches or boundaries of their possessions.
In ancient burial grounds they are met with too ; our ances-
tors, like the natives yet of every uncivilized country, huddled
a number of stones on the graves of their dead.
" ril throiv a stane to your Cairn y^ was a phrase used in
the days of yore, and expressive of a kindness that would
be shewn persons even when dead — by throwing a stone
now and then to the cairtis on their graves. Chieftains of
course then, and people of note, would be honoured with
the largest caitns.
Cairns-moors. — There are three large hills or moors in
Galloway, called " Cairns-moors " —
** Caims-moor o* Fleet,
•* Caims-moor o' Dee ;
** But Cairns-moor o* Carsphaim
**'Sthe biggest o' the three."
They are about a couple of thousand feet above the level
io8 CAK CAN
of the sea. YiirnSy otherwise eagles, build their nests on
them — and amongst their wild rocks are pieces of beautiful
spar found, termed by the country people Caims-mcor
diamonds, I have heard, too, of the door of the Cairns-moor
of FUety which is a very large cave that runs away into the
interior of the mountain, as yet, like the Piper's Co* d Cowcnd^
unexplored.
Cakie. — The excrement of children.
Callan. — A young person, either a boy or a girl.
Calledin o' the Blade. — A slight rain by which the blades
of grass are cooled and refreshed.
Callion. — Any thing old and ugly.
Camrell. — A piece of wood used by butchers, notched
on either end, used in hanging up carcases by the hind
legs.
Camshackled. — A quadrupled is so, when its two fore legs
are " langled,* or confined with a chain, so that it cannot
leap.
Camsteerie. — Restless j given to quarrel.
Canglin. — Wrangling ; foolishly disputing.
Cankert. — Cross-grained ; ill-natured ; fretful^ &c
Cankert King Cowan. — An old farmer wretch, who
lived at a place, some years ago, called the Biairs d Crce ;
he was extremely bad to his wife ; in short, there was not
one good quality about him. An Irish bard, who had
been stopping sometime in his neighbourhood, and who
knew his character well, would make a song on him — the
which I here give ; because it contains some genius, and
is wrote not only to a Galloway air, but in the Galloway
language ; some of the ideas however bespeak green Erin.
It gave me some furbishing ado before I got its grammar,
measure, and clink, in a fair looking passable way; but
CAN CAN 109
indeed the confessions of an old blackguard will never look
well —
My name's Johnnie Cowan the king o' queer fellows,
The devil the like o* me ere ye did see ; '
My lungs they are stronger than ony smith's bellows,
Sae &r frae the grave than I surely man be.
But like the hom*d howlet that's a' the nicht screeching,
'Bout cuikin o' victuals am a' the day teaching ;
On ^^ashing o' dishes too I'd mak a preaching.
Wad bet ony sermon ere ranted on Cree.
I never am weel but whan discontented,
Sae my wife and me we do seldom agree ;
I lather her aften and never repent it ;
I wuss she wad tak the hint some day and dee.
I'd rather be boxing and scaulin the women.
And riving their cheeks till the bluid it came streamin',
Then hae a brade river o' wine to gae swim in,
Exceeding in bigness the water o' Cree.
For how to get rich it is a* my desire.
Before that on whisky I'd spen' ae bawbee,
I'd rather sup sna brew that's made at the fire ;
My neebors ken weel what a miser I be.
I hunger my wyme, and my back I keep duddy.
For how to save sillar is a' my hale study ;
Ne'er think it ought strange tho' I gim in a wuddie.
Ay auld farmer Jock at the Blairs o' the Cree.
The first wife I had was a hule o' a woman.
But death was sae kind as to click her frae me ;
To whripe for the dead is a sin unbecomin.
Sae never a tear left my blinkers for she.
Afore she tirl'd owre my prayers war fervant.
Death cam and the cheel did na gang 'thout his yerrand ;
But than my hale blame was I kiss d my ain servant.
Like mony mae else, on the water o' Cree.
Sae whan I had gotten my auld Lucky hurried,
My joy it rase up to highest degree ;
0 ! than my hale thought was again to get married.
For 'thout a bit hizzie I never cud be.
1 rade af on my naig than and courted my Rosie,
As plump as a pig and as gay as a posie ;
But little thought I she was frien to auld Nosie,
The bawdy house-keeper on the water o* Cree.
I took her for nane o' your gigglin gawkies,
Tho' she had a vile gate playin wink wi' her e'e ;
Her kisses war sweeter than frosty potatoes.
Ilk time that a smack o' her mou I did prie.
no CAN CAN
I swore by my soul, I could swear by no greater.
That I was quite wuUin my dear wife to make her ;
If she'd na comply o the auld boy might take her.
For me, Johnnie Cowan, on the water o' Cree.
But afore she wad join me in sic a contraction.
Three hunner pounds interest I yearly bond gie
And being in lo'e faith about the distraction,
To a' her proposals I quickly did gree.
And now my auld pow sne has neatly adorned
Wi' thae vera things that I sae meikle scorned.
For now like a big Irish bill I am homed.
And croons out my wrath on the water o* Cree.
And now my guid neebors sae douce and religious,
I beg this ae favour frae you whan I dee ;
Ye*ll rip up my memory through distant ages.
And this epitaph ye'll get printed on me.
Here lies the remains o' Cankert King Cowan,
A miser, a cuckold, a pickthank, a loon.
And a lustfii* auld rogue — his match was ne*er known
Wha farm'd ance the Blairs on the water o* Cree.
Cannlesmas-Day — Candlemas-day. The way in which this
day is held at country schools, is tolerably expressed in the
following poem, written by a youth of fifteen —
CANNLEMAS DAY.
Whan February's flaughts o* snaw
Besark the infant year :
When ne'er a bonny flower ava
Upon the howms appear ;
Than Cannlesmas at kintra skools
We haud in merry stile :
Nae skolar's fash'd wi* bulks and rules.
But ilka ane dis smile
Wi' joy that day.
Behold Gillronnie's family braw,
Gaun owre yon Whunnie hill
Wi' faces clean, snod daickert a*.
By mammie's greatest skill ;
And see how crouse their father looks
As he steps up ahin them.
Thinking by how they learn their books.
That meikle pith is in them,
To shine some day.
Sic fathers are auld Scotlan's pride :
The far famed haunt for learning.
What nation i' the warle wide
Like her in its discerning —
CAN CAN III
Her manly independent youths
Can never live 'thout knowledge ;
And deep they're shawn the science truths
In mony a thacked college,
By night and day.
There Dominies are fain to teach,
Tho* scrimpet be the salary ;
And gif they play the sooking leech,
They're whistled down wi' raillery ;
And youths there be 'rnang moorland fells,
Far frae a' rural Athens,
Wha pore awa, and learn themsells
Wi pleasure and wi' patience,
For mony a day.
But ha ! The croovie-skool is seen
In loop o' yonder bum ;
The scraws and heather keep it bein.
The bairns wi* cauld ne'er yum.
Frae out its conic comic lum,
The reek is thickly rowing ;
Within — hear what a din and hum
Frae skolars thickly scrowing,
A' there this day.
Adown the deep snaw wridy glen.
What knots are coming posting,
How merrily they onward sten.
And o' their cocks are boasting ;
For midden cocks het frae the bawks.
They bring to daub and batter,
And may be some for a' their cracks
Will get, and what the matter.
Their licks this day.
And now the cme is panged fu',
On binks they a' are seated.
The Dominie's ay glowering through
To see a' kindly treated ;
He waleth ay the wee anes out,
And plants them roun' the fire ;
The big anes drive the jibe about,
The de'il the ane dis tire,
And gaunt this day.
Douce Elder John, than ca's the names.
The bamies than do ease
Their pouches wagging by their wames,
Wi' their intended bleese ;
Some saxpence brass — a shilling bit.
And some gie twa or three ;
112 CAN CAN
Gif that they be inclined to sit.
As king and queen ye see,
Upon this day.
And o peep at the Dominie,
Was ever monarch gladder ;
See how he e*es the white money,
And pockets up the cauder ;
Wi* perfect joy the body smirks.
And fain wad fa' a laughing ;
He snirtles wi' his neb and snirks,
Than's fluttering and laughing,
Puir cheel this day.
Roun* comes in jugs on whiteaim traes.
The sweet brewn whusky toddy ;
** Come whomeld owre," the waiter says,
"Twill hurt na honest body;"
Than Carvie Kebbuck featly cut
In sonsy oblong dasses,
Wi* bruckelie scly owre the glut.
What stiveron this surpasses,
Nane — nane, nae day.
O *tis a noble rustic sight
To see sae mony youths
Their Dominie a serving right,
While he sae minds their mouths ;
A dram is worth a million thanks,
A thousand fluent speeches ;
For in the breast it plays its pranks.
While they the heart ne'er reaches,
On sic a day.
Ablins amang the younkers here.
Just pure frae nature's glens.
Some may be heard o' yet elsewhere.
As wondrous fowk — wha kens.
A patriot stem, a poet wild,
A Wallace or a Bums,
Sae 'mang the prodigies be stiled,
But time makes few retums
Like them ilk day.
Some o'm doubtless wunna fail
O' being plowmen strong,
Or fit to swing the weary flail
The gloomy wunter lang;
Or some may chance be hardy tars.
And swash upon the ocean,
Or sodger lads for bluidy wars,
To fight without promotion.
For mony a day.
CAN CAN 113
Nae matter tho' they now a ring
Do form fu* wide and braw,
And into it their cocks they fling,
The chanticleers do craw ;
But ablins there is ane o'm game.
Steel spur'd in fighting order ;
Sae some sail faes he soon dis tame.
And some my chap dis murder.
Perchance that dav.
The battle by, again the punch
Comes sweiling roun' the binks ;
The eater nulls the hearty lunch,
The drinker dreeps and drinks ;
The fun is fairly at a height,
Nae ceremonies hamper,
\Vi' faces red and hearts fu' light.
They out and hameward scamper,
\Vi' glee this day.
The auld fowk left now closer draw
O' care their sauls unfankle.
They canna lae the pig ava
While it sounds pinklepankle ;
Whan naething mair fra it dis seep,
Wi' than they move the shank ie.
And bicker through the glens sae deep,
Fu' jollock, blythe, and swankie,
Right cheels that <Jnv.
Cannlesmas Bleeze, — That offering or present pupils make
to their " Dominies " on Candlemas-day. Anciently it used
to be a large candle, one that could give a good " If/azr ; "
hence the name ^^ bleeze ;'' now-a-days ^^ hard cash'' is
thought gives as pleasant a light.
Cant. — A little rise of rocky ground in a highway ; also to
" cant " anything over, is to tumble it off the perpendicular,
or over it
Canter. — The motion of an animal between the trot and
gallop.
Cantrips. — Witch spells, incantations, or the black art
witches use, when going on with their witcheries : various
snatches of cantrip rhyme are yet afloat on the atmos-
H
114 CAN — CAN
phere of tradition, not unsimilar to what Shakespeare in-
troduces in his tragedy of Macbeth. Surely, the mighty
bard of nature had been no stranger to Cantrips — with
his —
**Toil and trouble, toil and trouble.
** Fire bum, and cauldron bubble."
I may give two of the many specimens I have of these
curiosities —
In the pingle or the }xin
Or the haumpan o' man,
Boil the heart's bluid o' the tade,
Wi' the tallow o' the Gled ;
I lawcket kail, and hen dirt,
Chow'd cheese, an chicken-wort ;
Yallow pudtlocks champit sma*.
Spiders ten, and gellocks twa ;
Sclaters twall, frae foggy dykes,
Humbees twunty, frae their bykes !
Asks frae stinking lochens blue.
Ay, will make a l)etter stue :
Bachelors maun hae a charm.
Hearts they hae fu' o' harm :
Ay the aulder, ay the caulder.
And the caulder ay the baulder,
Taps sna white, and tails green,
Snapping maidens o' fifteen.
Mingle, mingle, in the pingle.
Join the cantrip wi' the jingle :
Now we see and now we see.
Plots o' ]X)aching ane, twa, three.
Such, I suspect, is a cantrips respecting bachelors and
blackguards; but the mysteries in it are not to be seen
through. The other I here give, is much of the same
nature, only it seems more concerned with the female
creation —
Yirbs for the blinking queen,
Secth now whan it is e'en ;
IJoortree branches, yellow gowans,
Herry rasps, and berry rowans ;
De'il's milk frae thrissles saft.
Clover blades frae aff the craft ;
Binwud leaves and blinmen's baws.
Heather l)ells, and wither'd haws ;
Something sweet, something sour.
Time about wi' mild and dour ;
CAN CAR 115
Hinnie suckles, bluidy fingers,
Napple roots, and nettle stingers ;
Bags o' bees, and gall in bladders,
Gbwks' spittles, pizion adders ;
May dew, and fiimarts' tears,
Nuol shearings, nowts* neers,
Mix, mix, six and six.
And the Auld maid's cantrip fix.
Canty — Happy, healthy, cheerful, &c.
Cappernoited — Intoxicated, giddy, frolicksome, &c.
Cappin — A piece of green hide^ firmly tied to that half of
the flail called the '' soople^' so that the '' tnidkipple,''
another piece of hide, may connect it to the other half, the
^* hand'Staffy Flaxen-hair*d Frank was the boy who could
both tune a flail and 3. fiddle.
Carle — An old tall man ; also a tall rustic candle-stick.
Carline — An old woman, though more often used to express
some supernatural being.
Carlines Co* — ^A very small cove on the west side of the
river Dee, and one of the most lonely and romantic any
where to be seen. When the bloody Grier d Lagg and
the Douglases hunted the Covenanters over hill and dale,
a poor man of the name of Dixon took up his abode in
Carlines Cd, and lived the whole of the time that foul
persecution lasted, on the shell-fish he gathered on the sea-
shore beside him, the which he found means to broil on a
fire by night : thus he eluded the foes of his clan, the foes
of God and man. The mouth of the cave is quite covered
with brush-wood ; at the farther end or benmost bore of
it, remains yet his seat — a square sea-stone : on it I ex-
pected to find an inscription of some kind or other, but was
deceived. The Assmidden, and other remains of fire, to be
met with, together with the general appearance of the
cave, lefl no doubt on my mind but that it had been once
inhabited, and for a considerable time —
ii6 CAR CAR
** There sat the lanely trimmling wight,
** Fear hardly let him draw his breath,
** For every hour by day and night,
** He dreaded that he'd meet his death.
•* A day o' storm — a night fu' black,
** War seasons whan his soul had ease ;
•* Light e*er flung him on the rack,
** Grim terror did poor Dixon tease.
** He lang'd na for the brade bright moon,
*• But wish'd her ay ahint a clud ;
** When morning came he griend for noon.
**The darker — less his heart did thud.
** Gif that the heron ga'e a scraigh,
•* While staging on the saunie shore ;
** Or shelldrake *mang the craigs, a squaigh,
** His cauld sweat gush*d frae every pore.
** He'd shade the binwud door aside,
•* And through the wunnock sleely peep ;
•* And whan he saw nought but the ticie,
'* He hurkled ben, and hauflins fell asleep.'*
Carlins o' Cairnsmuir — A poem of strange Carlines.
Come, draw roun' the ingle ane and a'.
And our merriest tales gae tell :
I^t us begin wi' the norland lad,
The lucky Abram Fell.
The true heir was he to Dinwudie,
That braw state by the Tweed,
Whar mony a how, lay for the plough.
And hill for the sheep to feed.
Whar hinnie sweyd down the whiteclaver.
And the wallie s head did ben',
Whar the herds shoon gathered the yellow wax,
And the nowt did fu'ly fen' :
For the wunter's sna, scarce lay ava,
On that warm and beilie grun.
And the hie leafd tree, on Dinwudie,
Ne'er dreaded the gurly wun.
Now Abram he was luike<l on
As a gye lucky boy,
To be the only ane wha wad.
The bonny place enjoy.
The lasses a', aroun' the ha',
ITie lairdies' daughters fair.
Did blink on he their blythest e'e.
And dinked wi' ane air.
CAR CAR 117
But whan young Abram gaed to claim
The richts to his estate,
Than he did learn sic unco news
As made him luik fu' blate.
His Knbruch scribe, o' the black gown tribi:,
Did let him plainly see.
There was ane skin, they cudna fin,
Some deed 'bout Dinwudie.
And o ! the want o* this parchment.
Did hurt young Abram sair ;
He dawner'd by the Pentlan' hills.
And whripecl through despair.
Sair he did weep, then fell asleep,
And soundly snor'd awa ;
And he did dream, as it might seem.
But 'twas 'bout Gallowa.
•• Get up ! get up I '* a voice did say,
** And gang's the wun dis bla',
** Till thou dis fin thysell, Abram,
** In bonny Gallowa.
'* And there gae dance, a while wi' chance,
** And thou shalt meet or lang
•* Something, my dear, thy heart will cheer,
'* And set a' right that's \*Tang."
Sae merrily up young Abram lap.
The wun blew frae the north.
And being yaul', he soon lost sight
O* the green banks o' Forth.
Ower Enterkin he fast did rin,
Through Minniehive and a',
And soon cam he, aside the Dee,
In bonny Gallowa.
He gat a fishing- wnn' and fished
The Geds wi meikle glee.
And wi' a gun pirl'd the Muirfule,
As they wad whurrin* flee.
At ilka fair, lo he was there.
And wha was there like he,
Wha had his grace, wha had hii lace ?
A' lo'ed him to see.
And nane did lo'e the lad die mair
Than charming Katie Bell,
'I'he lovely saul amaist ran daft
About young Abram Fell.
Her e'en war blue, that lovely hut,
And the bonny hair had she,
In siller and gowd, it glancin' flow'd
And she sang wi' melodee.
ii8 CAR CAR
Mang the fairy dales o* Gallowa
Nane was sae fair as she.
And the only daughter too she was
O* the lairds o* Bumilee :
Ten thousan' poun', he cud pay down,
Upon her wadding day,
But wha durst gang, and court there tlirang,
Nae chiel durst niik that way.
For the laird did think, as sae he micht.
Her match cud no be foun' ;
Nae lad he thought sae guid as her
*Tween the sea and the sun.
An<l whan young Abram to him cam.
He thought the same o* he,
A broken laird, o' sma' regard.
Did please na Bumilec.
** Forsake my daughter and my ha',''
To Abram he did say,
** How durst ane sneaking beggar-boy
** Come sae far af his way.
** Awa, awa, lea Gallowa,
** She hates thy fece to see,
** Click up ane leg, and gang and b^,
" Brave laird o' Dinwudie."
Sae glad was Abram to jump on
His twa steave shanks and flee.
As fire sprang frae baith the e'en
O' the laird o' Bumilee.
And Katie fair, did greet fu' sair.
The lad glowr'd roun' to see.
And saw her fast, held roun' the waibt,
By two strong chiels or three.
Sweet saul, in durance she was laid,
And watched nicht and day.
And ay she raved 'bout young Abram,
In the chaumer whar she lay.
And ay she cried, and ay she sigh'd,
** I'll ne'er wed ane but he,
** \Vi' him in rags, ower the muir-hags,
** I wad beg Imppilee.^"
»»
Sae Abram tuik his rod again,
And fish'd about the Dee,
l^ut o' his heart was unco sair,
'Bout the maid o' Bumilee.
And dull he turn'd, he bitter moum'd.
Then brake his wan in twa,
Gaed doyl'd about, and lay without,
Aniang the frost and sna'.
CAR CAR 119
And she, for a* her keepers stride.
The bonny Katie Bell,
Was lost ae mom, and whar she was
There cudna ane o'm tell.
'ITiey sought her far, owre heuch and scaur.
And up and down the Dee,
At last they cam, to whar Abram,
In doolfu' dumps sat he.
Thev questioned him gif he had seen
Tne lovely Katie Itell,
But satisfaction they gat nane
Frae the doyl'd Abram Fell.
Sae frae their rout, forfouchten out,
They back returned a*,
And said, " they had sought for the maid
** Ower a* wide Gallowa."
But tho' that they had sought the >^'uds
And glens yihir warlocks beek,
ITiey hadna found' sweet Katie Bell,
Wham they had gane to seek.
Thev now despaired — likewise the laird.
That her they'd nae mair see,
Sae nought but grief, without relief,
Was heard 'bout Bumilee.
They ne'er thought that the Carlins had
Convey'd the bloomin bairn,
To their grand palace in the muir,
The hie muir wi' the Cairn.
Through the mirky air, in their arm-chair,
The damsel they did ride,
Until they came to their house o* fame,
Sae elegant and uide.
For carpets o* queer ureie hues.
Bespread the lightsome floors ;
The sillar silk did co'er the wa's,
And gowden hang the doors.
And music rang, and minstrels sang,
Auld Scotlan's airs sae sweet.
And fairies did dance, but didna prance,
Wi' airy mettled feet.
But tho' they nursed dear Katie Bell
Wi' mair than Minnie's care.
And gied her ay the best o' food,
Whar on hersell to fare ;
She pined awa, and no ava
Cud either eat or sleep.
But aye, alane, wad sab and mane,
And scaudin' tears wad weep.
124 CAR CAR
Carry — The motion of the clouds, a driving over Heaven's
face before the wind ; anciently it was thought spirits carried
them so — see more of this in the article Lift —
" Ne'er a star peeps through the carry ; " hear to the soft
language of poor Tannahilly a bard or songster of the first
kind, who drowned himself in the Clyde, when between forty
and fifty years of age, in a fit of melancholy despair. Scot-
land, for all the warning she got with the early fate of Bums,
and for all the stigmas deservedly piled on her, for his
account, also shut her eyes on poor TannahiU^ never
changing him from the low situation of a Paisley weaver — no
wonder that his tender heart could not withstand this treat-
ment. I here give three verses to his memory, which I con-
sider tolerable —
Ha, melancholy mirky wight,
Grim Heckler o* the fee ling soul,
Hast thy ow'rpow'ring gloomy night,
On our sweet sangster set sae foul.
The tears frae nature's watshod e'en
Row murmuring down mony a rill,
And nought is heard by hillocks green,
But doolfu' wails for Tannahill.
For a* the charms o' tenderness,
His harmless bosom warmly felt,
And thae his muse did sweet express.
His melting heart made ithers melt.
His bonny y^ssie <?' Dumblain^
Wi' lo'e auld Scotia's sons dis fill,
E'en Sleeping Maggie maks us fain',
A darling bard was Tannahill.
Tho* gloomy was his winter here.
And tho' his friends war dowie dull.
The Higklan Laddie's sangs are dear,
He was ane IJarper time frae Mull.
Bums baith can make us laugh and weep,
He gars our hearts exlatic thrill,
Wha wi' him can sweet pathos sweep,
Xane, nane ava, but 1 annahill.
CARstLAN— Level loamy land by a river side.
Carson s — Water-cresses.
CAR CAR 121
Sae on young Abram they did lead,
Through rooms and lobbies gran'.
And grander too did things appear.
Whan he cam nearer han\
What shining chairs, what flichts o' stairs,
What saft beds did he see.
What things for ease, what things to please,
What things for lug and e'e.
At length he to a winnock came,
It was a winnock braw.
Through it was seen ilk fertile nuik
O' bonny Gallowa.
The Nith, the Cree, the darling Dee,
War seen a rowing sweet.
And just below, did wamplin flow.
The Minnoch and the Fleet.
They led him next to whar in state
The water kelpies were,
And sic a sight he ne'er had seen
As the sight he saw there.
What eerie chiels, war thae queer de'ils.
How eldrich sough'd their words.
Their vera forms, seem'd made for storms,
For spates and faeming fords.
Neast, to a place mair on tae east,
He was let ha'e a view,
O* wizzards, witches, warlocks, and
The crooning worriecow.
And boggles queer, whilk he did fear,
For aHiis bauldness great.
Ranked in raws, wi' tusky jaws,
Whilk raised the cauld sweat.
And brownies too wha harried.
Kind farmers mows o' com.
They thum|)ed them the leelang night.
Then dawner'd there at mom.
Thae chiefs he did see, o' the swingin tree.
In ane strange auld chaumer there.
Their claes war brown, frae the heel tae crown,
And Strang like tykes they were.
Ane housefu' was it, o' as odd folk
As Abram Fell ere saw.
The like o't's no in Scotlan', nor
In countrees far awa.
Whan thus he had seen, the C'arlin C^ucen
Her tootin horn did yell.
Her waiters a' then fled awa,
And quoth she to Abram Fell —
122 CAR CAR
** Abram, my lad, thou hast seen a'
" The fowk wha wi' me do dwell ;
•* Thou hast seen them a' but ae sweet ane,
•* Ane I keep for thysell."
Then open flew, a door she knew,
And m gaed Abram Fell,
There met alane, his lovely ane.
His darlin' Katie Bell.
What joy was there, what true love there.
What claps and kisses sweet.
Whan thae twa youthfu' creatures did
Sae unexpected meet.
How thev wad talk, how they wad walk,
How tney wad warm embrace.
And the heavenly smile, just a' the while.
Adorning ilka face.
Join ban's, join ban's, a Carl in cried,
And a queer Carlin was she ;
Join ban's, join ban's, for now ye shall
This moment married be.
They joined ban's, in wedlock ban's
'llie loving happy pair,
And the Canin said, be not afraid,
Ve'U never synner mair.
And she fix'd roim' baith their wrists a l)ee
O' the black ivoree ;
And said, as lang's ye wear this bee,
Yc'II here fin' dwalling free.
Then music sweet, to mettled feet.
The minstrel fays did play.
And Abram Fell, and Katie Bell,
Did dance wi' ither gay.
Thus did they spend the hinniemoon
Wi' meikle mirth and glee.
And ae day Abram gaed to sec
The Carlin's libraree;
W'har auld bulks stood, wrote afore the flood,
And mony a charming sang.
To the light lang lost, ance Scotlan's boast,
Lay there i' the archives thrang.
W'hile thus he read, and rummaged awa,
What did he chance to fin*,
Mang mony an ither auld charter.
But his ain sair sought-for skin.
ITie richts sae free, o' Dinwudie,
His lairdship by the Tweetl,
Now the joy o our twa, was nae way snia",
Dc'il hac t cud it exceed.
CAR CAR 123
They bade farewel to the Carlins kind,
And to bonny Gallowa,
Then posted af out owre the hills
To the norlan warl awa.
Sae Abram Fell and Katie Bell,
And their frien's lived happie a',
Sae Bumilee and Dinwudie,
And mair befel the twa.
Carlinwark Loch — ^I'he most beautiful sheet of water in the
south of Scotland ; and if we except Loch Lomond, Loch
Katerine, and some others of the lovely highland lakes, we
have nothing to match the Carlinwark in Scotia ; and even
these highland lochs are rendered more beautiful than they
are, by the pen of Sir Walter Scott. This lovely place lies
about eighteen miles west from Dumfries, beside the thriving
little village of Castle Douglas.
When beheld on a summer's evening, when the weather is
fine, when the sweet gay lasses are out strolling on its banks,
and the pupils of Isaac Walton out in boats angling ; when
the trees on the woody island are green, and the blackbird
whistling amongst them, why the thing becomes Killamey at
once, and not much behind Winander, the haunt of the lake
poets. It is wonderful indeed, that a laker or two does not
arise about the Carlinwark, I have heard of Gerrond and
KelvUy but what are these ; they have both a little of the
poet about them, but nothing of the Wordsworth and Wilson
school. Show Gerrond a flock of fat wild-ducks within the
range of his swivel^ on the lake, and you show him a scene
he much more admires than quivering sun-beams, hues of
azure, and other fine things. As for Kelvie, he might give
VIS the poem of the Carlinwark Loch.
-^KRCAKES — Cakes made of eggs and oatmeal.
-A.11REEN — To lean to a side.
-<*v URiGES — The religious catechism.
-^HRPiN — Teazing, with vexatious talk.
I
124 CAR CAR
Carry — The motion of the clouds, a driving over Heaven's
face before the wind ; anciently it was thought spirits carried-
them so — see more of this in the article Lift —
" Ne*er a star peeps through the carry ; " hear to the soft
language of poor Tannahill^ a bard or songster of the first
kind, who drowned himself in the Clyde, when between forty
and fifty years of age, in a fit of melancholy despair. Scot-
land, for all the warning she got with the early fate of Bums,
and for all the stigmas deservedly piled on her, for his
account, also shut her eyes on poor Tann€ihiU^ never
changing him from the low situation of a Paisley weaver — no
wonder that his tender heart could not withstand this treat-
ment. I here give three verses to his memory, which I con-
sider tolerable —
Ha, melancholy mirky wight,
Grim Heckler o' the feeling soul,
Hast thy ow'rpow'ring gloomy night.
On our sweet sangster set sae foul.
The tears frae nature's watshod e*en
Row murmuring down mony a rill,
And nought is heard by hillocks green,
But doolfu' wails for Tannahill.
For a' the charms o' tenderness.
His harmless bosom warmly felt.
And thae his muse did sweet express.
His melting heart made ithers melt.
His bonny Jessie o* Dumblain^
Wi' lo'e auld Scotia's sons dis fill,
E'en Sleeping Maggie maks us fain*,
A darling bard was Tannahill.
Tho' gloomy was his winter here.
And tho' his friends war dowie dull,
The Highlan^ Laddie's sangs are dear,
He was ane I Jar pet true frae Mull.
bums baith can make us laugh and wee)>.
He gars our hearts extatic thrill,
Wha wi' him can sweet pathos sweep,
Nane, nane ava, but Tannahill.
CARstLAN — Level loamy land by a river side.
Carsons — Water-cresses.
CAR CAS 125
C ARTES — Cards.
Cast — A throw, a turn, a change, &c.
Cast o' Corn — As much oats as a kill will dry at once.
Over all Galloway, this quantity is about six bolls.
Castle o' Raeberry. — One of the castles of the family
of M*Lellan, in Galloway. It stood on a promontory on
the shores of the Solway Frith, in the parish of Kirkcud-
bright ; steep precipices flanked it all round, except the
neck towards the main land, and cross this has been a deep
trench, with a draw-bridge over it. The word ^^ Berry,''
comes from the German ber^, a lofty hill or mountain,
and quite beside it is one of these large hills; for all
such a place of strength as this castle was, it was not
strong enough to keep out Black Douglas of Thrave ; the
tradition respecting his capture of it, is here told in an old
song. It seems they had used boats about it, as an anti-
quary lately discovered a boatway, cut through the rocks
beneath, on the shore.
RAEBERRY CASTLE.
I met wi' a man the ither night,
And he was singing fu' merry,
How Black Douglass, the bluidy wight.
Was gonked at Raeberry.
For the Maclellan lap ower the scaur
Wi' his naig, and swam the ferry.
He snored out, owre Bamhoury Bar,
And left far ah in Raeberry.
O ! he has sail'd the Solway sea
Without either ship or wherry,
And saved his craig frae being drawn, did he,
Ower the castle-wa' o' Raeberry.
For curse confound the de'il o' Thrave,
His neebors he dis herry ;
But Gallowa will never be his slave,
Nor the hraw lonl o' Raeberr)-.
126 CAS ^ CAS
Castle o* Thrave. — The strongest castle in Galloway, and
the most famous. It is a large square building, with horn-
works, on an island in the river Dee. Francis Grose, the
celebrated antiquary, gives a good account of it in his
Antiquities of Scotland. It was anciently an infernal place,
and many were the foul deeds there done ; even at this
day one shudders to inspect it : its thick walls, narrow
windows and staircases, its rooms arch-roofed, and the
dungeon yet remaining in perfection, make the blood freeze.
I have seen no old castle (and I have seen now a good many),
which conjured up scenes of ancient barbarism, and murder,
more than this one ; it seems as if it had been built for the
sole purpose of conducting savage deeds. It was the seat
of the Black Douglass^ one of the most horrible devils
that ever appeared in Scotland ; he made his very king
tremble for him, and hanged M*Clellan, Lord Kirkcubrie,
against his order.
The following verses of poetry I may here give, as re-
specting this fellow, and his Castle d Thrave^ or Trief
as in the ancient records of the house of Kenmore it stands ;
probably it is connected with reive — to rob, being quite a
den of robbers and murderers : —
On a bonny green isle in the water o* Dee,
As it rows frae the ken to the Solway sea,
Stands the tower of the baron, the fell bluidy knave,
And the name o' his keep is the Castle o' Thrave.
He has strung Lord Kirkcubrie ower his castle wa',
The worthy M*Clellan o' wild Gallowa ;
TTie dumb sough o' vengeance we hear frae his grave.
And it shall be answered at Castle o' Thrave.
Mons Meg we'll drag out, and we'll thunder him down,
We'll skelp him to hell, where his frien's will him crown.
We'll show him what's honour, and how we'll behave.
By dashing destruction on Castle o' Thrave.
Let him rally his rebels through a* Gallowa,
We care for them not, we shall conquer for a' ;
We'll rush on our faes like the far-fetched wave,
And sweep to damnation the Castle o* Thrave.
CAS CAT 127
ASTiN o* Bees — Bees are said to be " casting' when they are
swarming. Sometimes, when the insects are in this state,
they fly far away from their parents before they hive or
alight, in spite of all the pistols that are fired, and water
that may be thrown amongst them by their watchers, which
is the cause of many a warm race to the rustics. The poem
of the " Bee Hive " illustrates a haunt of this kind. See
the article Broolzies.
ASTIN Peats — The art of cutting peats out of a moss with
?L peat-spade. "Good casters" are always the chief men
about a moss.
ASTIN Up — The art of making little arithmetical calcula-
tions. A mower once regretted to me that he had not
learnt algebra at school, for then he could have " cast up
jobs on the nail d his thumb" Also, *'^ castin «^" is a
mean way of reproaching persons, by reminding them of
some little guilty slip in "youth," or of some crime of their
ancestors. Such conduct frequently leads to serious broils.
A man on horseback came up with another rider like him-
self, while going to a Dumfries Rude fair once, and quoth
the one who overtook, " Whar come ye frae, gude man,
gin ane might spear ; " " E*en out o' the parish d Coweriy'
replied he ; "I was thinking sae (returned the first), for
like a* your parish fowk, ye sit far back on the hinder
part o' the beast." " Ablins, (quoth his companion) and
whar come ye frae, is a fair question for you now to an-
swer." " O, am Mr. K , of R ," he replied. " I
lust thought sae (quoth the Cowend man), for I see the
stedd o* the gallows that hanged Henry Gregg, on your
back." On casting up which they at each other with loaded
T^hups, and the forward Mr. K. was left sprawling on the
road.
t^T — A small lump of manure.
\
128 CAT CAU
Cat and Clay — Straw and clay, used in making rude parti-
tions through cottages.
Catan — Tempting to battle, by poisonous language.
Catchie — Quick at taking the catch. It is said of those
expert at this, " That if they war as keppie as catchie, they
would make gude shepherd's dogs."
Catcraig — A sugar-loaf rock in the River Fleet, covered with
juniper bushes. Tradition says, a monster of a wild-cat was
once killed on it.
Catkindness — Selfishness.
Cat-lills — A kind of punishment inflicted by grown-up
people on those who are not so. It is done by pressing
the fore-finger into the hollow place at the root of the ear.
I^t all beware of doing this, for it has not unfrequently
been the cause of death, the cause of bursting blood-vessels
of the head.
Cat out o' the Powk — A phrase, signifying the letting out
of a secret.
Catstane — A large stone placed behind rustic fire-places.
Catstran* — A very small stream.
Catwhuns — A low growing ferny species of whin, good
coverts for the Scotch wild-beasts.
Catwutted — Of a savage humour.
Cauldrife — Cold-blooded ; also easily affected with cold.
Cauldside Sharpin-stanes — Stones found in a bum, in the
farm of Caulside, parish of Kirkmabreck, famous for making
hones of, to sharp edge-tools. Tradesmen tell me they are
before the best " Barskimming^^ or Water d Ayr stones, and
that no Welch, nor Non\'ay " Rag^' can give an edge with
them. The "//7? " being so wonderful.
Caull. — A dam cross a river, made on purpose to raise the
water for mechanical, or other concerns.
CAU CAU 129
!aum — A mould for casting bullets.
AUMSHELL, OF Clamshell, OF Mayshell — A bcautiful white
piece of shelly or boney matter, in shape somewhat like a
lady's slipper, frequently found driven in upon our shores.
It is reduced by no7ut doctoi's to a fine powder, and blown
through the hollows of quills into catties' eyes which have
motes in them, such dsflichters 0' caff, when the sharp dust
instantly causes the animal's optic orb to be flooded with
water, so that it winks much, and by so doing, cuts the
scum and obstruction away. What these bones or shells
are, like many things else, I have not discovered, nor do I
know that any have : some say that they are formed on the
breasts of certain sea-fowl, which moult them now and then ;
others, that they are the bones of a fish called the clamfish ;
and others again, that they are of a coral nature. I would
wish to know what some great naturalist says respecting
them. Linnaeus, the famed Swede, will have them to be
the scallop shell (ostrea opercularis ), and to this clings Dr.
Jamieson, the great Scottish lexicographer, a person whom
no Scotchman can praise too much, who has given the
world a dictionary unmatched for the learning and anti-
quarianism contained in it ; and considering that nothing
of the kind but some few glossaries had been done before,
the work truely becomes a wonderful compend ; yet, as to
the term under consideration methinks, with all due
deference to the Doctor, that it is not of kin to the old
French word clani€y a pilgrim's mantle, but to the Galloway
scaum — scum, because its use is in taking the scum ofl" eyes.
Now, in Scotland there has been a fashion of prefacing
various words with S ; as S7vhirrls, sturnills, &c. ; now if
this letter be taken off scaum, we have cauffij which is the
popular name by which the shell is known.
Caumstane — Fuller's earth, used by scourers.
Caup — A shallow wooden vessel.
I
132 CHA CHA
Chapmen's Drouth — People are said to have this drouft/i,
drought, or thirst about them, when they are not only in need
of some fluid to slake it, but food to take with it It is called
the chapmef^s drmvth^ because pedlers of a low class, in calling
at country houses to vend their wares, complain often to gude
wives that they are dr(nvth}\ which means, if they have any
food to spare in the pantry, they will not cast out with a cull
or piece of it.
Chapmen's Slaughter — There is a lump of stones in the
north end of the parish of Borgue, termed so, as two " chap-
men boys,'^ coming from a fair once, disputed, and slew each
other there, by stabbing with pen knives.
Chappie — A name for a young man.
Chappit — Choppit. " He chappit a bargain," he struck, he chop-
pit a bargain. No bargain stands good unless hands be chop'd
over it; the buyer's hand must be slapped into the seller's, then
a purchase is made ; in truth, this ceremony seals the matter.
Charkin — Speaking like pyets, or weazles.
Charlie — Charles.
Charnle-pins — The pins on which the hinges of machinery
turn. A man is said to miss his charnle-pins, when he is so
intoxicated with spirits that he cannot " stand steave in his
shoon," so fou that he loses the centre of gravity, and ^aes
heels owre gowdie.
Chaumer — A chamber, from old French chaumere, a little
hut. This chaumer, or chammer, was a kind of detached
room of the farm-houses of yore : here slept all the young
men belonging to the family. The chaumer, as it were,
was their apartment, the place they could call 'their own ;
in it were their beds and kists, what not. This was the
place of all merriment ; thither came crannies to see
crannies ; here were lasses brought by their ^oes and
courted ; here the country clash sounded ; here were songs
(
CHA CHA 131
as it were upon the ice, that they have had their name from
this. It is hard to say which is right ; so, I shall content
myself by saying, that there is not a more manly or a better
game played on the earth than the channlestane,
Chanrock — A channel of round stones.
Chanty Pot — A chamber pot.
Chap and Chuse — ^To select.
Chapmen — Pedlers, Hawkers, &c. Scotland, £unous for
many things, is also famous for her pedlers. Anciently,
the Scottish pedlers in Poland were a respectable body ;
now they keep nearer home, and travel about in England,
and in general, are a class very highly thought of; neither
Englishmen nor Irishmen make such pedlers as they :
indeed, the English try it a little, but not so the Irish, and
an Irish pedler is always as mean a looking object as is to
be met with ; the wares he hawks are of the lowest kind,
in truth, he, knows not the proper way to shoulder a bundle.
Scotsmen are naturally fond of this business ; for why,
they detest slavery. A young Scotsman of spirit, before
he will be bowed down with his nose in the earth, and
become a labourer to his superiors, will be a pedler. He
is then soon his own master, and the business being of a
wandering nature, leads him to see curiosities, a thing the
sons of the north are fond of; and, after acquiring some
money at the trade, he leaves it for something of a more
honourable name. Thus then, it is no discredit to
Scotsmen, the pedling trade. I know not of any other
which can match it, as a stepping stone for young men of
common talents, that they may leap on to from a humble
situation, and from thence to something better.
Chapmen's Bed — A bed reserved in farm-houses for the use
o{ chapmen^ and other wanderers.
132 CHA CHA
Chapmen's Drouth — People are said to have this drowih,
drought, or thirst about them, when they are not only in need
of some fluid to slake it, but food to take with it. It is called
the chapmen's drmcth, because pedlers of a low class, in calling
at country houses to vend their wares, complain often to gude
wives that they are droiothy, which means, if they have any
food to spare in the pantry, they will not cast out with a cuil
or piece of it.
Chapmen's Slaughter — There is a lump of stones in the
north end of the parish of Borgue, termed so, as two " chap-
men boysy^ coming from a fair once, disputed, and slew each
other there, by stabbing with pen knives.
Chappie — A name for a young man.
Chappit — Choppit. " He chappit a bargain," he struck, he chofh
pit a bargain. No bargain stands good unless hands be chop'd
over it; the buyer's hand must be slapped into the seller's, then
a purchase is made; in truth, this ceremony seals the matter.
Charkin — Speaking like pyets, or weazles.
Charlie — Charles.
Charnle-pins — The pins on which the hinges of machiner)-
turn. A man is said to miss his charnle-pins^ when he is so
intoxicated with spirits that he cannot " stand steave in his
shoon," so fou that he loses the centre of gravity, and goes
heels owre gaivdie.
Chaumer — A chamber, from old French chaumere^ a little
hut. This chaumer^ or chammer, was a kind of detached
room of the farm-houses of yore : here slept all the youn^
men belonging to the family. The chaumer, as it were ^
was their apartment, the phce they could call 'their own
in it were their beds and kists, what not. This was th^^'
place of all merriment ; thither came cronnies to se^^
cronnies ; here were lasses brought by their yoes an<
courted ; here the country clash sounded ; here were son|
CHA CHE 133
sung, tales told, dams played; here the gude man or gude wife
seldom made their appearance, unless they were given to
mirth; and many old men of cheerful natures preferred
sitting in the chaumcr ateen, to any other place about the
house. To close though, I do not know that we have so
much fun and hilarity now as our forebears had in the
chaumers d auld iang sym,
Chawchlin — Eating like a swine.
Chawlin — Eating in a sickly manner.
Chawner — To talk much and whine.
Cheek for Chow — Tete-a-tete ; cheek by jole.
Cheel — A man ; a male person.
Cheep — To cry as some birds.
Cheepock — The female Nymphae.
Cheeseclout — The cloth wherein cheeses arc made.
Cheesegird — A girth which is put round cheese when a
making.
Cherok-okie-ok — The lark's first note, in a May morning —
Cherokee-okee-okee
Sang the lark, as she did flee
Up amang the cluds, and sing
Ae bonny sunny day in spring.
The sang a bardie did translate,
The sang did rin this vera gate —
Now is the season for me,
ITie rest I care little about ;
I can sing, I can soar now wi' glee,
My note and my wings they are stout.
Not as when the winter winds blaw,
And freeze my Iang tae to the so<i,
Whan aft through the nights in the snaw,
I maun tak up my cauller abode.
Higher yet shall T soar i' the sky,
My dewy breast dry in the sun.
Then down on the sclent i»hall I fly.
And to my warm nest I shall run.
134 CHE CLA
Cheesle — The moulding dish wherein cheeses are cast
" Never jump out o* the cheesle ye hae been chirted in," is a
favourite proverb, and means, that though fortune may smile
on us, let us not forget the humble way in which we were
bred.
Chimlalug — The cheek of the fireplace.
Chi R KIN — Making a noise as the adder sometimes does.
Chirkle — To grind the teeth on other, as sheep are in the
habit of doing.
Chirms — Small bastard fruit.
Chirpers — The insects, house crickets; when they leave a
house on a sudden it forebodes evil, when they visit, the
reverse.
Chirrin — The noise grasshoppers make in sunny weather;
they do it by rubbing their thighs quick against the body.
Chirt — To squeeze.
Chitterie — Small backward fruit, or small bad potatoes.
Chitterin — Trembling with cold, so that the teeth chatter on
other.
Chitfle — To shell oats as birds do.
Chittler — A small bird of the tit-mouse species.
Chollers — Lumps of fat beneath the chin — double chins.
Chow — To chew ; also a quid of tobacco.
Chowks — The upper parts of the throat.
Chucks — A game with marbles played by girls.
Chucky — A name for a hen ; also the henwife's call for the
poultry.
Chuffy — Fat, chubby, &c.
Chulders — The same with Chollers.
Chuns — The spring or ^^ sprootings^^ of potatoes.
Clabber — Any soft dirty matter.
Claggy — Cloggy, sticking, &c.
CLA CLA 135
Claith — Cloth.
Clampin — Tramping after a noisy manner.
Clan — A tribe which holds together.
Clanch — A mannerless man, given to eating in the swinish
stile.
WULL HULLYOCH.
Wull Hullyoch was as big a clanch
As 'ere was kend by ony Ixxly ;
Rasps and crabs he up wad cranch,
His haums wi' slawk and sludge war muddy.
The slunyoch's visage was fu' ruddy,
His sillar up in meat heM hanch,
WTiilk keep'd his hurdies unco' duddy,
The beast had sure a strong digestive panch.
\Vhan bacon in the pan did crack,
And gravie deep aroun' did sotter,
'llien Wull his fipples red wad smack.
He smell'd the imry like an otter.
And on the scent awa wad hotter.
And sae hae at the roast a snack ;
He'd glutt a cargoe till his knees wad totter,
It took a disk his pechan out to rack.
A greedy gormandizing cheel
Has been detested, and will be for ever,
They wi' the kyte, belike the swauld woocreel.
Dear modesty is seen to suffer never.
For, let a fallow ever be sae clever,
This gies his character the bursen seal,
Whilk frae his name he'll ne'er be fit to sever.
'Twill dog his hatefu' carcase to the De'il.
Clanjamphry — A worthless blackguardish crew of people,
throngest still on the Lord's day.
Clanter — A jarring noise, such as proceeds from clogs
walked about with in a house.
Clapper o' a Mill — The tongue of the mill ; beside the
hopper^ set in motion when the mill is set in motion.
Clappin — Foundling, toying, &c.
Clarried — Besmeared with mud.
Clartie — Dirty with mud.
136 CLA CLE
Clashbag — A person full of low mean stories.
Clashes — I^w, idle, scandalous tales.
Clash MACLATERS — The same with Clashes,
Clatch — To besmear with mud.
Claiterbag — The same with Clashbag;.
Clatter-banes — Those bones which move when we chat
Clauchan Pluck — A village of the genteel name of
Lawriston. It is seated in the moorlands, has learning and
peat-stacks about it ; and has turned out on the world some
wonderful characters.
Claut — An implement used in cleaning office houses, roads,
streets, &c. It has a broad semi-circular mouth, placed
vertical to the shaft. A young fellow, who had been out of
the country a little while, pretended, when he came back,
to know nothing of the mother country : even this tool,
which was reclining against a wall, its name seemed to have
fled his memory. " Come, what devil do ye call this," said
he to his rustic friends, laying his foot rashly on the mouth
of it, when the shaft sprang up, and hit him in the face.
" O ! d — m the claut^^ he exclaimed, not waiting for an
answer from his humble companions ; the name striking
him by a strange association.
Clavers — Nonsense.
Claws-crunts — Old trees, which cattle rub themselves against
Clay'd Up — Eyes are said to be so when boxing has blinded
them.
Cleck — Idle chat.
Cleedin — Clothing.
Clepps — Pieces of bended iron, used for hanging pots on
fires.
CLE CLO 137
Cleppie Bells — People of the name of Bells, who aided
anciently the persecution of two Christians on the sands of
Wigton. They tied them to stakes on the sand, and left
them to perish with the coming tide. When asked how the
poor wretches behaved, when the sea was coming foaming
about them, they said, " that they clepped round the stobbs
like partons, and prayed," viz. wreathed round the stakes;
after which saying, they were always called " CleppU BettSy^
and the fingers of their hands grew strangely together, which
deformity yet attends their race.
Cleuchs — Wild steep woody glens, the abode of foxes, owls,
and other such animals.
Clicky — A turned headed staff ; also, to be quick at catching.
Cliens — Small heaps of stones.
Cliers — Thick saliva, which obstructs the windpipe.
Climpets — Sharp pointed rocks.
Climpie — A person with a strange lameness.
Clinch — ^To halt, to walk on one foot
Clinken Co*s — Caverns which make a tinkling noise when
stones are thrown into them.
Clinker — A blow.
Clints — Little awkward lying rocks.
Clip — To cut with scissars.
Clipe — A person scanty of good manners, who has little
in him, as the people say, but what the " Ram-horn spoon
puts."
Clippie — A person with too neat cut clothes.
Clochers — Mucous matter which is coughed out of the
throat ; thick phlegm, termed by some fat spittles ; the
sound a person emits when throwing out Clochers ^ is too
called clochering.
ii;8 CLO CLU
o
Clockin Hens — Hens which are or have been hatching;
to scare them from clocking, gude wives plunge them into
cold water.
Clocks — Beetle insects.
Cloddochs — The same with Cliens,
Cloddthumpers — Rollers.
C logos — Wooden shoes, iron bound ; they are all num-
bered according to size. Ploughmen generally use ** tens;'
so, in the country, cloggs are not unfrequently called
" tcnsr
Cloited — Fell easily.
Clooter — The noise a bad delivered channle-stone makes
on ice.
Cloots — Hoofs.
Clotchd — Sat in the broadest and most slovenly way.
Clout — A slight blow.
Cluddy Wather — Cloudy weather. The colour of the
sky rules the colour of the sea ; if the sky be a deep blue,
the sea is a deeper ; the denser the medium the darker the
hue. The sea at no time is of a more sable hue than when
the land is covered with snow, and sky loaded with black
clouds.
Clues — Balls of winded thread. Witches had their "^/i^
clues ^^^ to aid their necromancy. One at the stake going
to be burned, on the Barhill beside Kirkcudbright, said, if
they would bring her " her ain blue due, which she had
forgot a hame," that she would lay open her art. The
clue was produced, she took one end of it and flang it into
the air, and after muttering a few words, vanished in a
moment. To win the blue clue in the killpot on hallo-
ween, was a serious matter before Burns made the world
laugh at it.
CLU COC 139
Clunk — That noise which is produced when a cork is drawn
out of a bottle.
Cluster o' Stars — The constellation of Orion, to the naked
eye there seems to be no such obvious cluster of stars in our
hemisphere as this ; so has been particularized by country
people in all ages.
Clutter — A piece of bad stone building, particularly if it be
" dry ware wark^
Co'— Cove.
CoAGiN Sheep — Shearing the wool from off their necks before
the great days of sheep dipping come on ; this is done for the
purpose of saving that wool which would otherwise fall off
before the season mentioned.
CoALLs — Little hay cocks.
Co* o* Caerclauch — One of the most celebrated coves in
Galloway; it seems to have been used as a subterranean
castle by our forefathers ; a clauch or dauchan, or small vil-
lage, as secure as a caer or castle ; so the literal meaning of
the whole may be, " the cove of the armed or defended
village." Tradition says, that no human eyes ever beheld
the back side, or farthest extremity of this cave ; that a dog
once went in at its mouth and came out at the door d
Cairnsmoor, a place nearly ten miles from it ; and when the
tyke did come out he was found to be all sung (singed), as if
he had'passed through some fire ordeal or other.
Cobb — A blow.
CoBBiN Ewes — Shearing the wool from off their udders, so
that their lambs may freely get to the teats to suck.
Cobbles — Large sea-beach stones.
CocKABENDiE — I dare hardly, for the sake of modesty, explain
this term; when such is seen to be the case, readers may
make a rough guess what it is.
I40 COC COG
Cock and Pail — Spigot and faucet
CocKAWiNNiE — The method of carrying persons with a leg
over each shoulder.
CocKE*E — The circles which surround the "Tee," or mark
played at in curling.
CocKFAiR o' Drumaddie — The name of a fair which never
existed, but yet is frequently talked about. When a farmer,
for instance, has unsaleable goods in his possession, he is
bid take them to this fair ; when persons a bargain-making,
cannot 'agree, they tell others that they will at this fair ; and
when a young woman cannot get a husband, she is told that
her only chance is at this place; so imagination has some
use for the Cockfair d Drumaddie,
CocKOLEARV-LAV — The cock's matin, or morning crow.
Cock's Eggs — WTien hens are about to give over laying, they
lay small eggs like dove ones ; these are said to be produced
by the cock, there is no yolk in them.
CocKUM — A name for the cock.
Codger — A hearty old fellow.
CoDSLip — A linen bag in which are put pillows.
CoGG — Any flat surface not lying horizontal, is said to be a
co^. An old carter, fond of whisky, would often bid the
bawbee with his horse, to know whether it should have ^y-
stimpert of corn, or he one of grog; one cold day, lr}'ing th ^
turn of fortune this way, the luck fell on the side of the poo-
beast, when he bawled out, " That 's no fair ; that *s a cogg :
so he bir/'d away, until the luck came to his side — th^
inhuman wretch.
Coggle-te-Carrv — The amusement with the board laic:-^
over the fulcrum ; a person gets on to each end and hairs
an undulating ride.
Cogglie — Unstable.
COL COR 141
Cole — ^To dress by cutting.
Colly — A dog ; also a coward.
CoLLYSHANGY — A woiTy either with dogs or men.
Common Corn — Oats of that kind where each grain hangs
by itself upon the stalk; not like the other kind termed
^^ potatoe corn^^ where two grains always hang together ;
there is little of this " common corn " now used : the other
kind just mentioned has superseded it, as thought to be both
more prolific and ^^ early ^^ which has caused the other
^^ common^* over all the land anciently, to be now branded
with the epithet of ^^ late corn^
CoNGLUMRiFiED — Conglomerated — stupified with a mixture of
many foolish thoughts when applied to man, as it generally is.
CooL-STANE — A stone whereon the famous Laird 0' Cool
(whose ghost will afterwards be spoken of) used to sit ;
it is in the farm of Cool^ parish of Buittle, and no man
dare touch it. A bold mason once would, but as the
people say of him, " he had never after anither day to do
weel ;" he fell under it, and got his bones almost squeezed
to a mummy,
CooTi K INS — Spatterdashes.
CooTLE — To make a noise like ducks, when they are talking
to each other.
Coots — Ancles.
Corby — The raven. This is one of our most singular birds ;
he seems to feel more pleasure in flying than any other,
and goes through many antics in the air, tumbling himself
on his back frequently ; he cares nothing about storms, and
in fine calm days he will on wing circle often the top of
some high hill ; his nature, however, is very savage, and
when domesticated, as he easily is, he prides himself in
doing all the devilry he can.
CoRKiN-PREEN. — A large pin.
142 COR COT
CoRKLiT. — A whitish kind of fog, used in dying; it is taken
from rocks, and feels like cork-wood, hence ^^ cork" the
name, and "//'/" being a dye.
CoRNCLocKS. — Beetles common amongst corn.
CoRNCRAiK. — ^The bird Landrail; its young ones are black,
and they run among the grass like as many mice.
Corn K 1ST. — A chest to hold com, common in stables.
Corns. — Circular stones about two feet diameter, used for
grinding malt, and anciently other things, before the inven-
tion of water-mills.
Corse — Cross. Saxon.
Corse o' Slakes — Cross of rocky hills. Slakes^ in Saxon,
meaning rocky hills, or rocky brows. In Galloway there are
no roads so wild as the one which leads over the celebrated
pass of the above name, between Cairnsmoor and Cairn-
hattie ; it is a perfect Alpine pass, and was a haunt of Billy
Marshall and his gang in the days of yore ; even yet it is
frequently selected as a suitable station for the " bludgeon
tribe."
CoRSiCROWN — A simple game. A square figure is divided by
four lines, which cross other in the crown or centre ; two of
these lines connect the opposite angles, and two the sides at
the points of bisection ; two players play, each has three men,
or flitchers ; now there are seven points for these men to
move about on, six on the edges of the square, and one at
the centre, the fnen belonging to each player, are not set
together as at draughts^ but mingled with other; the one
who has the first move may always have the game, which is
won by getting the three men on a line.
Cosh — Snug, happy, &c.
CoTMAN — A cottar, one who lives in a cottage, a bound
servant to a farmer ; this man is always looked on as the
second in command about a farm-house; he receives his
COT COW 143
wages, or what is termed his benefit, not in hard cash, as
other servants do, but in meal, barley, potatoes, or what
not; the keeping of a cow, or cow's-grass ; he is the most
useful of all servants, because the most settled; he interests
himself more in his master's affairs, and looks after his
property as if it were his .own, and generally fills his
station very respectably.
CoTTRiLL — A nail in the head of a plough, by which it is
drawn.
CouK— To sort, to arrange, &c.
CouM — Culm, refuse, dust, &c. See ^^ Peat coum''
CouMMiE Edge — ^The edge of a tool is said to be so when it
does not seem to be good steel, nor well polished.
Coup — To overturn.
CouTHY — Frank, agreeable, &c.
Cow — A besom.
Cowans — Those who would wish to know the mysteries of free
masonry, without being regularly initiated, a thing both mean
and foolish to attempt; mean, because they are cowards, and
dare not go boldly forward like men ; foolish, for unless they
do so, masonry they never, never can know, no not the
slightest thing about it; they may rail against the ancient
and glorious institution, because they are held in ignorance,
a thing which harms it nothing, for masonry, while time
remains, will always find patrons in warm-hearted, social, and
independent men. All other arts but it, of man's formation,
sometime or other decays, and are reeled rotten into the
bastile of oblivion, it alone remains the oracle of ages, and
stands on a foundation so deeply grounded in nature, that
no storm, though ever so rude, can make it in the smallest
totter.
Cow^D — Made a coward of
144 COW CRA
CowDiES — A name for cows.
CowT — A young horse.
Cracket — Split, deranged, &c.
Cracksie — Talkative.
Crae — Crave.
Craftin Lan — Good green fields of the nature of croft.
Craig — The throat, also the neck.
Craig o' Herons — The herons having the long craig or neck ;
these birds get extremely lean in body about the dark d the
moon, or when the moon is about the change, because they
see not then to fish, and are birds that feed mostly by night ;
and being of a gluttonous nature, it is not a wee thing that
serves them; indeed, the heron is a bird that may be well said
to eat itself^/// ^f Ph'i ^^^ it is always very lean; a stranger to
this bird, on seeing it fly, would think it very weighty, by the
trouble it seems to sustain itself in the atmosphere, but this
is the reverse ; it is on account of its bulk and lightness, the
wind can drive it almost where it will, it is a very timid bird ;
come upon him unawares, while wading about in a lonely
pool, he has not the fortitude to get under way, and may be
caught This is the bird that vomits the shot star, that clear
gluey matter found in fishy marshes ; instead of being a pro-
duction of the lofty regions of aether, as long fancied ; it is
now found to proceed firom the ^t,^^y gizzerons of lang-necked,
or craig d herons,
Craik — An unneedful noise.
Craims — Stands, forms, &c, whereon open-air merchants expose
their wares.
Cranch — The noise that teeth make, in eating unripe fruit.
Cranes — Ix)ng poles, with notches fixed to them, for the
feet to stand on ; while they are used in wading rivers, a
water three feet deep has frequently been passed over with
cranes.
CRA CRI 145
Crapp — The essence of whey, extracted when the whey is
boiled, off the top, called in England ^^ float whey^^ it makes
very healthy food.
Crappin — The crop of birds.
Crappit — Cut short. The rebels in Ireland were called
crappies ; for why, they had the hair of the head cut short ;
see the song of " Laury 0' Broom, Sir"
Crapps — Crops. Produce of Harvest.
Craw-plukin — Threatening for faults committed. "I hae a
craw to p/idck wi' you" is often said by those who have
thought themselves injured, to those whom they think have
done them an ill turn.
Craws — Crows. These birds are said to begin to build their
nests always on the first Sunday of March, and there is some
truth in this, though it does not still hold good ; also, that
they are always throngest at work on the Lord's day, when
building; this will not just stand the test either; we think
them thronger on that day than on any of the week days,
because, on that day we are resting from labour ourselves, so
more at ease to remark ; they follow not our example.
Crawtaes — Flowers of the hyacinth species, common in wild
woody glens.
Crawtt — A small insignificant person.
Creech — Grease.
Crespiestool — A little seat.
Criffi.e — A large hill in the south-east comer of Galloway.
I have seen many funny conjectures made about the deriva-
tion of its name, as of the devil and also the famous
wizzard Michael Scott having it once in a **cree/" fixed
round their bodies with a rope, that the rope there broke,
and the " creel fell," so from that taking the name ; however,
I cannot see the use of giving the fancy such a flight, in
order to come at the thing wanted. Does " crifT" in no
146 CRI CRO
ancient norlan tongue signify " cliff?" I think it does, or else
it is a corruption of " cliff," and as for the other half, it surely
coraes from " fell," a wild rocky range ; so putting the two
together we have " Cliffell," which is as near the name
" Criffle " as the other " Creel-fell," and surely nearer the
representation of it, for it is a place entirely composed of
cliffs and fells.
Criffle Diamonds — It is strongly reported that this hill is
full of these precious stones, but never can any of them be
obtained ; sailors passing it on the sea in their barks by night,
are said to see them sparkle in the cliffs, but when they haul
their wind, and go ashore in boats to get them, their guiding
radiance vanishes, and so they come aboard sadly disap-
pointed. Inventive fancies have suggested the firing of cannon
balls at them through the nocturnal gloom ; then finding in
day-light the places struck by the bullets, which would be in
the neighbourhood of the rare minerals; but I know not
whether this plan has ever been yet tried.
Crimp— To plait, to "frill," &c.
Crinkv — A rod of iron, with an hook at the end
Crock-ewes — Old ewes which have lost mark of mouth.
Crock-pigs — Large vessels of earthen ware for holding butter.
Croichle — To cough often but not loudly, the sickly cough ;
those of consumptive habit are always " croichlin."
Croittoch — A lameness which often assails the feet of co^-s
and oxen ; some cure it by drawing a hair rope through the
split of the hoof; others, by pouring into that place, that
burning thing " aquafortis."
Cromek — An English gentleman of the name of Robert
Cromek, whose memory every Scotsman ought highly to
respect He was born in Yorkshire, had a genius for en-
graving, but a greater for a particular species of literature
CRO CRO 147
— the songs and manners of the days of yore ; the works
of Bums first gave him a bent this way, nor could he rest,
being so charmed with the muse of our great bard, until he
took a trip to Scotland, and gathered the " reliques of Burns,"
a very amusing work, for which he was made a member of
the Antiquarian Society of Edinburgh. Having published
this book in London, he again set sail for the land of song,
with his legendary wallet, and having arrived in the fertile
regions of the south of Scotland, he soon was enabled to
fill his budget by the aid of a bard he there forgathered
with, and Mrs. Coupland, a lady at Dalbeatty, Galloway.
This lady's exquisite taste in poetry furnished him with
some delightful matters. O ! would she but publish the
effusions of her own muse, what a treat would this be to
auld Scotland. The bard our enthusiastic Englishman fell
in with, was no less a one than Mr. Cunningham ; he met
with the poet amid his rural haunts, singing of all the sweets
of nature ; and as I have heard, Mr. C. presented him with
some of his poetical pieces, in order to have his opinion
respecting their merits, the which Mr. Cromek ratherly
sneered at, which caused the bard, when he showed him
any more of his productions, to say they were of the
olden time, the which bait he greedily swallowed ; whether
he ever was aware of the songs being all mostly Cunning-
ham's is not for me to say ; he has lauded them as being
extremely good, and as belonging to that part of the
world ; in doing so, he has said but the truth ; now, why
should there be such a jangling abroad in the world about
this and similar things ? if a poem be met with decidedly
good, matters it much whether it was written in this or that
century; the works of Ossian, the Song of Hardyknute,
Chatterton's Poems, and the Nithsdale and Galloway song,
I admire as much for my own part as if they had been all
known as well about dates, everything, as the poems of
Bums.
T48 CRO CRU
Mr. Cromek had certainly a very just idea of what com-
posed a good song ; his taste in this respect seems to have
been great, and considering the land he passed his youth
in, it is wonderful to conceive how well he was acquainted
with the manners of the Scots, the nature of their songs,
and expressions of their languages ; worthy man, he died
of a consumption in London sometime in March, 1812,
when but a young man, leaving a widow and two children.
Mr. Cunningham has given a sketch of his character, which
is to be found in the front sheets of a spacious edition of a
poem called the " Grave," by Blair, published by Ackerman,
bookseller, Strand, He never wrote very much himself, but
was very active, gathering rarities and getting them pressed.
On the whole he was a man in every sense of the word,
whose memory deserves not to be neglected.
Cronie — An agreeable friend.
Cronoch — The air of an old song, the Earse, Coronauch.
Crook — A piece of iron with clicks to hang pots on fires
with.
C ROOKIE — Anything crooked.
Croon — The melancholy music of the ox.
Croovie — A little snug, strange-shaped hut or den.
Croozie — A broad-bottomed candlestick.
C ROUSE — Merry, high in spirits.
Crowdie — A thin mixture of oatmeal and warm water, not so
thick as " porritch,** nor yet so fat as " brose."
Crowl — A dwarf.
Crudds — Curds.
Crudd-sae — A shallow tub to hold curds.
Crue — The same with Craavie.
Crulge — To stoop, to cringe.
CRU CRU 149
Crummie — The name for favourite cows.
Crummies Punch — Grog, half water, half whisky. — Crumbier a
Priest, who was once a placed preacher in Kirkcudbright,
amongst the many divine things he taught his flock, this
species of Punch was one, and it seems to outlive all the
rest ; yea, and hand his reverend name down to posterity ;
Crummies Punch will live as long as the Crook d the Lot or
the Pilgrinis Progress,
Crumpie — Any food brittle to eat
Crumwhull's Gibb Cat — A queer Galloway Poem —
In Gallowa now some hae heard
O' Auld Cramwhuirs Gibb Cat,
Or may be no — the de'il the odds,
IjCt bards alane for that
And there's o' them wad rather hear
About ane big Gibb Cat,
As o' the grandest richest king
On gowden throne ere sat
Or warrier faeming on a naig,
Owre blude besumped fields,
'ITiere splitting pows — there jagging hearts,
And jingling on shields
Or statesmen thumping ither down,
Wi' a' the pith o* chat,
Ane nobler theme than them by far,
Is Auld Crumwhull's Gibb Cat
Wha worried ance a fumart dead.
And shook him after hin,
Wha did the gimell o' Crumwhull
O* rattons aften thin
Wha crumpet mice like raisings up,
And mony anither thing,
Wha aft upo* the knee wad loup
O* Auld Crumwhull and sing
For Auld Crumwhull wad straik his back.
And ane sleek grey back had he ;
Than wad he cock his tail fu* straught,
And nyurr awa wi' glee
He lo*ed the auld man unco' weel,
For why he used him sae,
As selfishness had the Gibb Cat,
And men the same whiles hae
152 CRU CRY
Hy the chulders he seized on the gudewife.
And soon wad hae stap*d her breath,
Had na her man, her sons, and daughters.
Harried him to death
A wee thing did na kill the chiel.
He fufT'd, he bit, and spat,
Sae merry Scotsmen now ye*II ken
About Crumwhull's Gibb Cat
Tho' for the moral o* the tale,
I^t nane that moral tell —
May every birkie watch his saul.
And haud it out o' hell.
Crupple — The curple; the article in horse housing; well
known to the Monkland people and others, who pride
themselves in " riding gear'^
Cruttlins — The refuse of soft food.
Cry*d — Proclaimed in church. Those proclaimed do not
attend church on that day, nor none of their near relatives,
which is Scotch modesty —
The song of BENJIE KELLAUCHEN.
Chortis. OivTf the wif wat'es /followed my Mary,
And owre the blue hills o* the Ian* far awa.
But I never faun her^ till hack I did wander,
A* hame un* her mither at Cillybumha.
0 ! the sweet jade had her notions romantic,
She welcom d me back wi' a glowre o' disdain;
She laugh'd at my justles across the Atlantic,
And ne'er gaed a sigh at my tales fu' o' pain.
She had at her parties the beaux of the clauchen.
And mony a young lairdy fu' goofish and braw.
But deuce a bit card cam' to puir Benjie Kellauchen,
Never a kin' invitation ava.
Yet ay I did lo'e her, and ay she was bonny,
0 ! nane like my Mary ava I cou'd see ;
My heart ay beat queerer for her than for ony,
Altho' she wad seem unco* cauldrife to me.
1 gal unco' dowie, I cou'd na be cheery,
1 dawner'd about the Saughligget and sigh'd.
Ay dreading ilk day at the kirk that my deary
On some ane or itherbut me wad be ** cried."
But what's come about think ye — I've gat my Mary,
For a' the cauld cluds that atween us did blaw,
"lis the nalur' o' women to shuffle and vary.
But gin we are sicker we won them for a'.
Owre the wil* waves, &c.
CRY CUD 153
A SONG BY BENJIE KELLAUCHEN.
O ! my love she is £siir,
And modest and neat,
O ! charming's her air,
And her lips they are sweet ;
Let her dress how she will,
Enchanting she's still,
O ! she makes me to gaze, and she makes my heart thrill.
Full many a maid,
I have loved to kiss.
But my lips ne'er were laid
On a sweet mouth like this ;
When the hills hide the sun,
When the evening's begun,
'llien, then, to my darling I swiftly do run.
And she waiteth for me
By the banks of bum,
'Neath the brown hazle tree.
Where the merle doth sojourn ;
The fairies dance round,
On the flower covered ground,
O ! that is the place where true pleasure is found.
To her I do give
My hand and heart free ;
0 ! would she but live
In contentment with me,
1 would shield her from harms.
With the power of my arms.
And enjoy evermore the delights of her charms.
'^ING Pipes — Little pipes made ot straw, which children
lake a noise with ; the humble doric reed.
^ING Sin — A sin fancied to be large.
riNG Wife — A woman in labour.
fs*D — Shriveled, contracted, &c
JB — A dull fellow.
3BERT — Cupboard.
0 — A lying young man.
DDLE — To lie with other lovingly.
DDOCHS — Black cattle a year old.
DDROCH — A timid worthless youth.
DDY Ass — An ass.
154 CUD CUR
Cuddy and the Powks — An ass with bags hanging about it;
also a school game — two boys join hands and feet over the
back of a third, the which creeps away with them on hands
and knees to a certain distance, and if able to do this, he,
the cuddy ^ must have a ride as one of the /xnvksy on some
other's back.
Cuff o' the Neck — The back part of the neck; that part
where bitches and cats carry their young by, when they wish
to remove their lair.
CuiF — A blockhead.
CuiST — Did cast.
Cull — A lump of hard food.
Cum'd — Grain is said to be cumd when it has begun to sproot
or bud ; — the cum d maut is the advancement the bud has
made — the length it has grown ; by this, maut-nun know if the
grain has been long enough kept moist before they kill-dry it
Cummer*d — Cumbered; hands are said to be so when benumbed
with cold.
CuNDiEs — Hare holes through dykes. Poachers set gims in
these to catch the game. One set a strong brass wire one,
once ; this he did in the gloaming ; in the morning when he
looked at it, there was his oami dog hanged in it; he took out
the dead tyke^ set it again — looked at it next morning, and
there's his own bawdrons leaping and scratching in it; he had
much ado in setting her free, then swore he, that ^^girns h^
wcui never set mair^
CuRCHiE — Curtsey.
CuRLV-MUCHY — Mouth-thankless. — See the article Nyaph,
CuRR — A shepherd's dog.
CuRRBAWTY — The art of seeking quarrel ; some people,
to their misfortune, are good at this, for they too often
find it, and are frequently sadly forfoughten ; there are
CUR CUT 155
some again who can steer their way through this life, bad as
it is, and never have a battle with anybody. I once heard a
^A^^/say, "that a worry refreshed him — that it claw'd his
back, and that he could not live if now and then he had not
a brattle with his fellows ; " for my own part " I relish
quietness at a price too much," as Pomfret says ; and should
any write against this queerish book and myself, with the
high swinging language of damnation, mine eldritch jaw
should never be opened in self-defence; the broosle they
should have without fighting for it. I hate the name of
Currbawty as I hate the devil ; what is the use of making
this world worse than it is ? Let us take a laugh in it
whenever we can.
CuRRCUDDY or KiRRcuDDY — A singular rustic dance, now
common to be seen danced on the stages of theatres by
buffoons. The dancers ciirr or sit down on their hams, with
their hands joined beneath their thighs, and so they hop
about, and go through various evolutions.
CuRRMURRiN — That noise in volcanic bellies, ready for
eruption.
Curry- KAME — A comb for cleaning horse hides.
1-'l'shado*es — Cushet-doves. These are the most destructive
birds in the south of Scotland, and they are not so bad yet
as they will be. Plantations introduced them, and as the
one thrives so does the other. They take no warning when
one of them is shot, like crows.
■Uttie-mun — A short person, with an extremely small face.
This face is said to be like a mun. Dr. Jamieson has munn
to be a short-hafted spoon, and adds, it is a Galloway word.
In this I differ from him ; cutty -horn or cutty-spoon, is the
name I have heard, mun always applied to a little face. I
have sometimes thought this mun, this word of perplexity,
"^as derived from moon, cuttie-moon, a little moon of a face :
iDut this will not do well either, for we have a phrase, when
156 CUT CUT
speaking of a man with a large face, that he has a fkcc as
dradt as a moon. I am sorry to leave the word baffled.
The doctor thinks that it may come from the islandie,
munn^ the mouth ; now it is not the mouth that is the thing
which makes us say a face is like a mun, it is the little
circumference of that face. Old people, on the grave's
brink, are said to have faces shrunk into that form.
CuTTiE-PiPE — A short-shanked pipe ; great smokers dislike
any other kind of pipe than this, as also a new one. The
English, in this respect, are not so, they must have long-
shanked new pipes to every spell of smoking.
CuTTiE-sPOON or CuTTiE-HORN — A short-shanked spoon.
CuTTS — Those bands of iron which encircle swingle-trees, or
bars of wood, by which ploughs and harrows are drawn ;
there are three of them on each bar, one at each end,
and a large one in the centre. They are called cutts^
because, before they were made of iron, there was just a
strap of home-made rope for each cutt^ and these, in time,
by friction, cut through the wooden bar.
An art may alter, but its early name
Clings closely bv it, till it reaches fame ;
And when 'tis there, the hold it does let go,
For then 'tis held, tho' it may wish or no.
Myselu
CuTTS and Capers — Flashes and flings.
CuTTS and Hanks — Thread in a loose state before it is wov*^
into a web.
CuriT — Anything short, scanty.
Cutty-glies — A little squat-made female, extremely fond o^
the male creation, and good at winking or ^/j'/«^/ hence th^
name cuttie-glies. Poor girl, she frequently suffers much hy
her natural disposition : to be short and plain, it seems thi^
is the class of females destined by some infernal law tc^
become prostitutes.
CUT DAI 157
CuTTY-WRAN — The wren, the little nimble bird : how quick it
will peep out of the hole of an old foggy dyke, and catch a
passing butter-fly. Manx herring-fishers dare not go to sea
without one of these birds, taken dead with them, for fear of
disasters and storms. Their tradition is of a " sea-sprit ^^ that
haunted the " herring-tack^ attended always by storms, and
at last it assumed the figure of a wren and flew away. So
they think when they have a dead wren with them, all is
snug. The poor bird has a sad life of it in that singular
island ; when one is seen at any time, scores of Manxmen
start and hunt it dowiL
D.
Da' — ^A fond name for father, a contraction of daddy.
Dab — ^To pick like a bird, or peck.
Dabble-docks — The last candles that are made at a making ;
they are dabbled as it were in the dock^ hence the name.
Also persons battered with storms, having all their clothes
wet, are called dabble-docks,
Daffin — Toying with women under night
Daffy-downdillv — The lovely yellow flower daffodil, or lily.
Daft — To be deranged in the mind ; also some are thought
to be "daft," who are worth two wise folks. A strong
natural genius is, for common, thought to be so when
young.
t>AGG — ^A cut of earth.
C>AiCH— Dough.
AiDLE — To stroll about carelessly, and tipple and loll.
AiDLiE — A loose frock, worn by children over their other
clothes, called in England " pin-afore."
158 DAI DAM
Daikert — Dressed, sorted, set to rights, &c.
Dai MEN — Rare, odd, &c.
Dainti es — Delights, delicacies.
Daivert — A little oath, also to be stutCd with a blow.
Daiz'd — Fail'd, decay'd, not fresh, &c
Dalldrums — Foolish fancies, "he has ta'en the dalldrums^
he has got foolish ideas into his head. I can say nothing
respecting the derivation of this word, but such is its
meaning.
Dallied — Tarried.
Dallion — A [)erson whose clothes befit not his body, being
too large for it ; also, that person has a singular foolish gait
in walking.
Dalloch — A flat of fat land.
D allow — To dig with a spade.
Dambrod — A draught-board.
Damdyke — A raound of earth flung across a stream, to confine
the water, for mechanical affiairs. " Spates " often drive
these dykes before them, to the grief of millers and others ;
a very worthy and singular miller, of my acquaintance, once
told me the following : — " I had been in at the market, and
ablins^ I might hae taen a gill or twa mair than was right,
nought mair likely. I had been in * Dinnies ' by the Brig,
too, and minds o' me, haeing a twelie wi' Lucky. But let
thae flees stick i' the wa'. After I had lifted Gilronnie brae,
I foun' mysell soberin, sat down on a taff*-dyke, and took a
look o' the lift The moon was wadin deep, and there was a
damnable sough i' the sea owre the Ross. I saw a spate
brewin plainly, every clud the carry brought whiskin by
teird me. I thought o' my damdyke. The brod maun be
lifted wi* the screw the night ony way, or it will be a' to the
pot or morning. This said I to mysell, started, catched
DAM DAM 159
clicky again, pat a chew o' yeannies best i' my mouth, and
held straught on to the dam,
*
" But whan I cam in sight o' the Milton, frien* Johnnie's
wather-glass cam i' my head. I had heard o' certain gentle-
men farmers consulting the * mercury J sae I, for ance, wad
consult it too. Gaed in tae house — Johnnie was na gane lie,
I foun' him taking a blaw o' the pipe owre the fire, wi' the
mmodieman. Quo' I, * how's the glass the night, man ?
we're gaen to hae a wather brack, that's my notion o't, sae I
maun down tae dam, and lift the brod, or I'll hae nae dam
i' the morning.'
*Howt's fool,' quo' J^ohnnie, 'we're gaen to hae nae
si>ate. Atild Guthrie has filled ye wi' thae babbles as ye
cam' by now, the glass is up, awa atween^/> and dry ; but
we'll tak the cannle, and look, gin ye like ; there's nae fear o'
your dam the night ony way.' We did sae, the thing was as
he had said, the mercury was up, awa by * fair and dry.'
* But gang out, man, and look at the lift, and hear the sough
i' the sea ; gif they look na like a spate, they cheat me,' quo' I.
* Howt's fool,' quo* he, * its your ain lugs that sough the
nighty and wha kens but your e'en may be a wee thing glazed
too. We'se hae a glass o' whusky owre this ony way.' To
this I was * nothing loath,' as the great Milton says, for by
this time, wi' sweating, drinking water, and chewin tobacco,
my mouth was got dry, and a * wrack ' had gathered brown
Toun* my lips, like the wrack on the shore roun' the sea. Ae
glass brought anither ; him and me tae jawner, and whan I
gat hame, lord knows. I wakened i' the morning wi' an awfu
sair head ; the ducks I heard giein queer eldrich squakes about
the * lade! I pat on my mill-ciaise, and gaed out : the wun
-was awfu' ; the rain was fa'in in stoupfu's. I set af to unscrue
the dam wi' a haste ; but or I wan haufway till't, there its
coming meeting me, rowin just before a sea o' water. I had
eneuch ado to wun out o' its range. The hale was fearfu' to
look at ; on it roared and famed, covered my bit meadow
i6o DAM DAR
with sods, nor did it rest till it rolled into Mollack Bay, mak-
ing the sea, as far as the Netherlaw Head, muddy. What
cud I do ; to fret needless, but wha cud keep frae't * Let
it lie there,' quo' I, * there's nae faith to be pitten in whusky
and wather-glasses, "
Dams — Game at draughts.
Dandgell — A person much the same with Dallion ; also a
large thick top-coat.
Danner — To wander carelessly.
Dan TON — To fright, to intimidate.
Darck — A day s work. " A darck o' peats," a day's work to
obtain peats ; this clause is in many a poor man's bargain with
his master. " Darck" sometimes too rather extends beyond
a " day's work ; " thus we say often when a hard job is done,
which has taken the work of weeks, " that that was a darck
indeed."
Darg — The noise a spade makes when darting into soft earth.
Dark o' the Moon — That period of the moon when she is in
conjunction, or changing, or ratherly the first and last quarters
of the moon^s age ; she is then but little seen by us, and leaves
our nights, while she remains so, to the utter dominion of
darkness. " Parties^ in the country," viz. meetings among
friends, are never fixed to be held during this season, and sev-
eral wild animals which roam during the night for prey, get
lean in flesh at this absence of the radiance of the nocturnal
queen. The fox and owl miss her light very much, but none
more so than that bird we call the craig d heron ; it is then
nothing but a rickle d battes, covered with feathers, and has
given rise to the saying, when any one is down in flesh, like
an Edinburgh Student, that he resembles the craig d heron
at the " dark d the moon'^
Darrochs — Oak woods, or places where oaks grow; the word
is cjuite earse.
DAM DAM 159
clicky again, pat a chew o* yeannies best i' my mouth, and
held straught on to the dam,
" But whan I cam in sight o' the Milton^ frien* Johnnie's
wather-glass cam i* my head. I had heard o' certain gentle-
men fanners consulting the * mercury y sae I, for ance, wad
consult it too. Gaed in tae house — Johnnie was na gane lie,
I foun* him taking a blaw o' the pipe owre the fire, wi* the
maiuduman. Quo' I, * how's the glass the night, man ?
we're gaen to hae a wather brack, that's my notion o't, sae I
maun down tae dam, and lift the brod, or I'll hae nae dam
i' the morning.'
*Howt's fool,' quo' yohnniiy * we're gaen to hae nae
spate. Auld Guthrie has filled ye wi' thae babbles as ye
cam' by now, the glass is up, awa atween^/V and dry ; but
we'll tak the cannle, and look, gin ye like ; there's nae fear o'
your dam the night ony way.' We did sae, the thing was as
he had said, the mercury was up, awa by * fair and dry.*
* But gang out, man, and look at the lift, and hear the sough
i' the sea ; gif they look na like a spate, they cheat me,' quo' I.
* Howt's fool,' quo' he, * its your ain lugs that sough the
night, and wha kens but your e'en may be a wee thing glazed
too. We'se hae a glass o' whusky owre this ony way.' To
this I was * nothing loath,' as the great Milton says, for by
this time, wi' sweating, drinking water, and chewin tobacco,
my mouth was got dry, and a * ivrack ' had gathered brown
roun* my lips, like the wrack on the shore roun' the sea. Ae
glass brought anither ; him and me tae jawner, and whan I
gat hame, lord knows. I wakened i' the morning wi' an awfu
sairhead ; the ducks I heard giein queer eldrich squakes about
the * lade^ I pat on my mill-ciaise^ and gaed out : the wun
was awfu' ; the rain was fa'in in stoupfu's. I set af to unscnie
the dam wi' a haste ; but or I wan haufway till't, there its
coming meeting me, rowin just before a sea o' water. I had
eneuch ado to wun out o' its range. The hale was fearfu' lo
look at ; on it roared and famed, covered my bit meadow
1 62 DAY DEA
He seems to have some ear for music, as all fools have,
and might probably, who knows, have been learned to write
rhyme. See more of him in the article " Naturalls^^
Deacon MVminn — The Borgue philosopher. This was
quite a Dr. Franklin, if he had had his industry; but,
wanting that (except for me), he would have sunk into
oblivion. The Deacon was a rustic of no common intel-
lect : it is pleasant to reflect on his vast mind, even though
it was rude. Had he received the benefit derived from
education, there is no saying how far he might have ex-
plored the ocean of science; what unknown lands he
might have found; and what gems, by diving, he might
have brought up to light.
For the greater part of his life (and it was not a short
one), he lived in a little hut beside the Glebe of SenwUk,
and wrought just at labouring work, hoeing whins,
quarrying stones, &c. He seldom was a bound labourer,
he was ratherly what is called a jobber^ taking little speUs
of work from those who had them to give, and doing them
at his leisure, for the Deacon would never allow himself
to be a hard worker, his great mind insisted frequently for i
time to reflect on the various works of nature which pre-
sented themselves before him. He was fond of Botany,
and had a little garden filled with flowers, finit-trees, and.
bee-hives. All the Gardeners in Galloway knew the Dea-
con, and would have come twenty miles and upwards, fo"«^
the one purpose of having a cfack with him. With theiK^
he exchanged visits and plants, and was a welcome gues-—
in all the hot-houses, parterres, and orchards, the wide===
spreading country could boast of. His gooseberries were^
still of the first kind, and when they were in season fo^^
eating, his garden was like a little fair on Sundays,^
with people tasting his mellow fruit Such was the Dea-
con ; — he is now in his narrow bed, poor man : the house —
DEA DEA 163
where he lived is in ruins, his berry-bushes withered, and
covered with nettles, and robin-rin-thf-hedge, while some
of his " garden flowers " are now to be seen " growing wild."
Yet the fond memory of some conjure up the rustic sage,
and some of his shrewd remarks seem as if they were not
going to be forgot. When the minister of his parish died,
some of his warm friends thought of erecting a monument,
with a suitable inscription thereon, to the memory of his
departed Reverence, but ere doing this, they thought it
would do no harm to have the Deacon's opinion on the
matter, when he gave his shmvthers a hatch, and answered
wi' "I ken na what ye wad say about him, but that he's
there ;*^ meaning as much that his body lay there, and
there required no more in justice to be said : so the idea
of a monument was blasted by the Deacon's sarcasm.
Though it was known that the Reverend gentleman was
never much admired by him, as when he (the priest) met
with our philosopher, at diets d examine, it was always
his way to set upon and question hard the Deacon, respect-
ing the knotty points of our faith ; yet even there, he could
not get the better of him so well as he wished, as, whenever
a cramp question was put, the Deacon would shake his
head, and say, "He cud na cleverly tell that," the which
answer compelled his Reverence to tell it himself. When
asked by an acquaintance once what he thought of the
sermons of the above-mentioned priest, if he considered
them true to the point, or if he "backed weel out wi*
Scripture?" "I ken na (quoth the Deacon), he preaches
Imd — ay, he's loud^^ meaning as much that he made a noise
when speaking, and nothing more.
When some Sutors in the Gate-house started from the
stall, and began to harangue a multitude respecting their
evil ways, the Deacon thought " Preaching would soon
be gaun wi* water,^* like any other piece of mere ma-
chinery.
1 64 DEA DEA
His inquiries after the wonders of nature were of the first
kind. The tides of the ocean, the thunder, the clouds, and
the stars, cost him many reflections ; and far did his mind
penetrate into the ways of Providence. Wild too, did his
fancy soar, and out of hah claithy as the saying is, he could
shape a wonderful story. His imagination was perfectiy
exuberant; he not only knew the ways of men, and the
various turns of nature, but he seemed also as if he had
spent many a day with witches and warlocks ; dined with
water kelpies ; and danced with fairies. With these visionary
beings, he still seemed quite at home. By the strange tales
he struck out, and the distance his mind was above his
brother rustics, was he honoured with the title of Deacon:
his christian name was James. He was a great ardzan,
as so were his sons, quite masters of all kinds of turning,
centric and eccentric; they made distaffs and snuff-boxes,
unmatched for handy craft
It may be said of the Deacon, as it is said of not a few,
that he was gifted by nature with powerful talents, but
blasted by the laws of Fortune.
Dead-days — Those days the coq)se of a person remains before
it is buried ; no ploughing, nor opening the earth in any shape,
is allowed to go forward, when such is the case in a farm.
Deadilv — A school game.
Dead-match — A close match.
Dead-thraws — The throes of death. To the man of feel-
ing, there is not a more horrible sight to be seen, as
fellow creature in this wretched state; how alive we
then to the power of death, and how grieved to the sou-
that we can render no relief I was never able to stan--
the scene but once, and will never try it again, un
abniptly compelled. I do not think death itself will
more dirticult for me to endure than that appalling see
I
I
DEA DEB 165
was. Once too, that restless being within me, Curiosity,
dragged me to see the execution of a young man, when in
Edinburgh, but she'll drag well if she drags me back again
to see such a spectacle. I was not myself, Mactaggart,
for a month afterwards, my mind was so disordered with
the sight In a curious way wrought the phrenzy (as I am
one who speaks my mind), I tell this. I felt an inclina-
tion, both during night, when dream after dream whirled
through my brain's airy halls, and in the day-time, to do
some crime or other, that I might meet with a similar fate.
Whether this is ever the way with any other person, I can-
not tell, but so it operated on me, and which has caused
me ever since to say, that hanging, instead of scaring from
crime, has a strong tendency the other way. May God
keep me far from seeing again any in the dead-thraws.
Death on Skvtchers — Long, lean, ill-made people, are said
to be like Death on Skytchers — Death on skates; for this
fell foe of our race is fancied, by all nations, to be a rickk 0*
haneSy yet he skates, or moves quickly about.
Debushed — Debauched. I am always fond of inserting
those little scrapes of poetry I have about me when they
suit the article, and I think this at present on the Death c> a
Debauchee, is quite a-propos : —
And sae my merry ranting Tarn
Has turned the nuik at last,
Weel did he lo'e a wench, a dram,
And lived unco' fast.
Few ance cud dance and drink like he,
And woo a bonny lass :
For he attended every spree,
And freely flashed his brass.
At waddings, raffles, jerkins, balls,
Blyth Tammie ay attended,
He boxed well in midnight brawls,
And sac his days he ended.
His pouch o* cash was seldom light,
For his auld scrubbing dad
Left him a weighty purse to right,
And set him floreing mad.
\
i66 DEB — DEI
'I'hus the father spent his days
In grubbing misery ;
The son, tho', did reverse his ways,
And dietl a debauchee.
Sillar's ay the root o' woe.
Whatever view we take,
It is the miser's wretched foe.
And oversets the rake.
Sae Tam, ye're now gane to the grave,
That tavern cauld and grim ;
Nae parties there do ill behave,
There a's in sober trim.
Your landlord, Death, in quietness keeps
The chaummers o' his Inn,
There cursed clamour queemly sleeps.
The wicked's ill-fared din.
For you the yillwives here lament,
And drunkards sound thy fame,
May they, unlike thee, here repent,
Or they gae to lang hame.
What madness this, to plunge downwright
In black damnation's pool,
To love the night, and hate the light,
O ! foolish man ! fool ! fool !
Deep Draught — A long deep-drawn plan. People, this way^-t-^-^^
for all their uncommon craft, seldom thrive. The worlc^ ^'^
holds of them as of a weeping crocodile.
De'il Dogs — Black dogs, met with under night, have lon^^^
been called de'il-dogs ; and it is confidently thought hy^*
many, that the Prince of Darkness trounas through this^^^
world in the form of a black dog: even Bums has him —
the Piper at Allowa Kirk to the Witches —
** A towzie tykgy black, grim, and laige."
De'il's Bucky — A bad boy.
De'il's Buiks — The Devil's books, the cards, generally called
the DiiPs buiks by that sect of religious persons called the
Hiilfoivky for they will not touch the cards, and consider
them the first books in the Devil's library.
DEI DEI 167
■>e'il's Club — Many people fancy that the Devil carries a
club with him wherever he wanders, and whatever object
he is allowed to touch, from that moment it becomes his
property, as when he touched the Man of Uzz anciently.
Thus, at that season of the year called Michaelmas, he is
said to touch with it the black-berries, or to " throw his
club over them," none daring after that period to eat one
of them, or the "wornis will eat their ingangs." That
"boy too, who personifies an infernal being at Yule time,
ivith face besmeared with soot or grime^ and a sheep skin
"belted round him with a straw rope " wooly side out, and
ileshy side in,'* as the song of Bryan O'Linn goes, this boy
"bears in one of his hands a club, and in the other a frying-
pan, as he rambles from house to house with his com-
Tades, in white weeds; and, in one of his rhymes, thus
clescribes himself —
** Here come I, auld Beelzebub,
** And over my showther I carry a ciub^
** And in my hand a frying-pan,
** Sae am I no a jolly aulciman."
See more of this article. Yule Boys, There are many
liowever, who dread not either the auld boy nor his dub^
"but are something, as the poet said, of Ingleby, the female
'who lately astonished Scotland, by laughing at fire; her
Hesh remained unhurt in the strongest flame that could be
made ; she could too, lick with her tongue, a red gaud 0^
€iimy and lap up a mouthful of boiling lead —
** If Ingleby ere gangs to hell,
** Auld Nick will ken nae whar to throw her,
" She'll stand his bleezes like himsell,
** He'll no can make Vi penny o' her."
People should really be more afraid than they are of
that pit wide yawning ; and I myself should reflect often er
on the matter than I do, for I find I have not been an
uncd gude boy.
i68 DEI - DEI
Df/ii/s Dizzen — The number 13.
De'il's Milk — The white milky sap of many plants, called
so because of its bitter taste. There is much of it in the
stem of the siuifu thistle,
De'il's Needle — A large insect common in the latter
end of summer. Its body and wings are about one length,
that is, three inches. It haunts mosses and moors : it
bites hard when caught, and is called adder-hell in some
districts in Scotland. Some say it stings, but this it does
not; and whether its bite be poisonous or no, I have not
yet learned, nor do I know the name insectologists give it
Frequently t\vo are seen flying together, and in conjunction.
It is an insect not much beloved in the country, and tall
men of a bad disposition, are not unfrequently called
De'ifs needles^ and sometimes De'iPs darning-fuedles. See,
for more respecting them, in the article, Robin Aree,
Devilry or Devilry — To illustrate this word, I may give
the poem named the "Devilry o' Drummorrel." ^Vhen I
say the poem at any time before I give it, I do not mean
to say it is a poem well known, a poem that has been
printed, and all the rest of it ; I only mean that it is a poem
that I never before beheld the light.
Daft Davie had a farm,
And it was ca'd Drummorrel,
The soil o* it was na warm.
Bent grew on*t and sorrel.
His lairdy had a daughter fair,
Nane like her sae bonny ;
She had the e'en and the hair
Nature gaes na mony.
Wooers cam frae every airt
To court the lovely Nancy,
Hut it was hard to shog her heart,
No ane o' em could she fancy.
She cared na for a common cheel
De'il the single spittle,
Some lord she thought might answer weel,
Her whimsies were na little.
DEI DEI 169
Blawn up wi' meikle pride hersell.
And helped by her mither ;
She cared na what did wisdom tell,
It never made her swither.
Wi' her did Davie fa' in love.
And wha at that need won'er,
Whan wi' that passion she did move
Younkers mony a hun'er.
He da\mer'd, doyl'd about the farm,
His heart ay beating queerly.
Raving about her every charm
And how he lo'ed her dearly.
** O ! Nannie, thou's a heavenly queen,'
He aften owre repeated ;
**The like o' thee nae man hath seen,
Nor got his fancy heated. "
<<
Upon his farm there was a co'
Which travellers did admire ;
Our lady ae day to't wad go,
It being her desire.
Drummorrel gat a scent o' this,
And down tae co* gaed linking,
In hopes the cheel to get a kiss,
Wi meikle plotting thinking.
He crawls into the farthest nook
O' the auld curious chaumer.
And there the benmost bink he took,
Whar Nick learns witches glamour.
Wi' ladies and wi* cannle-light
Fair Nancy now did enter,
To see the famous rustic sight.
It was a daring venter.
Davie e'es the lovely maid,
Ijonlf how his heart was thumping ;
He sees her coming half afraid.
And he's prepared for jumping.
He letteth Brst an hideous yell,
Then claughted at the lassie,
Wha thought him het just out o' hell,
O sadly scared was she.
Her comrades let the lantron fa'.
And out they sprawchled scraighing ;
lang wast or they cud speak ava.
For fainting maist, and peching.
170 DEI DEI
Than quoth Drummorrel to the girl
** Do this, or I can't save thee ;
** (iae we<l, or dorni I will thee whirl,
** Gae wecl Drummorrel Davie."
Sac let her gae, she wauchlecl out,
VuiT thing she was na fearie,
It was the De*il, she didna doubt,
Whilk had made her sae earie.
And Davie, wi' his wilyart voice,
I^y i' the cavern roaring ;
He raised an awfu' eldritch noise,
\\V squeeling, s(]uaching, snoring.
And strange to tell, or it was lang
I le gat the darling lady,
\Vi* joy he owre her daily sang
A happy life-time had he.
Thus Drummorrel's devilry
May show the world that wildness
Succeedeth to a high degree
Aboon the calm o' mildness.
There is something about this poem which reminds us of
the tale of " Daft Jock M*Clean," so I may also give it
Jock was a curious enough human being; not altogether
wise, and one could not say he was quite an idiot either;
yet he was mostly allowed by all who had the honor of
his acquaintance, to want a few pence of the shillings as
the saying is.
Well, the fellow wandered about the nit-umds and bum-
sides^ and one lovely sunny summer evening he met with a
certain Nobleman's daughter. This young woman was
extremely bonny ; her eyes bewitched poor Jock M*Clean
the moment he saw them, and made him stand fast: so
the wretch stood and gaped and panted, and glowered after
the yellow hair'd maiden, until she went out of his sight
past a turn on her walk. He went home to his mother
in a sad state ; love was burning him up alive. Sleep — he
could get none ; and how to have a kiss of the fair charmer,
puzzled him much. At length he hit on a plan : he knew
of a crab-tree in full bearing: he went and pulled the
DEI DIE 171
fruit, and rowed them along the fair lady's accustomed walk,
ending the row in a deep recess of the wood, in a dark binwud
grove. The bait took ; the lady, out strolling, seeing the crabs
placed in this manner, followed the train away into the deep
grove, where yock lay in ambush to receive her. He clasped
the sweet soul in his arms ; she screamed ; he kissed ; she
fainted — he let her fall, and ran. Some people working near
by, hearing the cries of the young lady, came to her aid : soon
they caught the poor daft fellow, who simply told the whole
cause of the uproar. The lady pardoned and pitied him,
saying, " That if he had come and told her what he wanted,
he would have got it, without putting himself to so much
trouble, and her in such jeopardy." For the fellow's craft,
however, she gave him a suit of new clothes, and a more
flashy fellow than he was, came not to the Belton Fair of
Kirkcubrie that year, and some girls were not ashamed to
admire Daft yock AP Clean,
Delfs — Marks of animals' feet in soft land.
Demented — Deranged in mind. Some girls go demented about
some men. This is a turn of mind I am not up to : if the
men have injured them, then it may be accounted for ; but
for pure love, it beats me quite.
De-Neti*les — A kind of nettle common in corn-fields, and
hurtful to the reaper's hands.
Deuce — The Devil ; deuce a bit, devil a bit.
Deug — A long tough man.
Deugle — Any thing long and tough.
Dibble — A piece of pointed wood for planting with.
Diet o' Examine — An examination of honest Christians by
their parish priest about religious matters, points of faith,
grounds of salvation, what not Wise priests examine now
none at all ; others, not so wise, or perhaps wiser, examine
the youths of their flocks, a thing surely quite right ; and
172 DIE DIN
others, more foolish, still examine all " hand owre head,^* the
young and the old, a thing in many respects very far wrong ;
nothing but impudent country-folks can answer properly any
questions at these meetings. The modest, and they are still
the great majority, can answer nothing; how can they; when-
ever they speak they are laughed at, and timidity debars them
finding words for their ideas : yet still I think more of the
religious principles of that person who can answer not a word,
than of that who can. The one is mostly found to have the
darling heart, and the heavenly light therein ; the other we
find to have goodness only ^^ iip-dvepy At these diets, the
priest, and many of the heads of families, have a " diet "
indeed, of good beef and greens, as they are mostly held at
the wealthiest of the country people's houses.
Anciently, when the minister withdrew, and took terror
with him, a fiddle was introduced, and dancing, drink, and
fun kept up to an early hour next day, which pleased the
taste of many as well as the question of " effectual calling^
Din — Noise of any kind.
Din — Dun, the colour. " It*s a mercy dinness is na sair,^ quoth
an eminent wit to a certain auld Lucky who had the
Ethiopian's skin. "How that, gude man?" (quoth she); wi*
** had it been sae," he returned, " you and me wad hae been
keeped in eternal tonnent.'^
DiNGE — A blow, or dinnage.
Dingle Dousie — A piece of wood burned red at one end as a
toy for children. The mother will whirl round the ignited
stick very fast, when the eye, by following it, seems to see a
beautiful red circle. She accompanies this pleasant show to
her bairns with the following rhyme ; —
Dingle dingle-dousie,
The cat's a lousy :
Dingle dingle-dousie.
The dog's a' fleas.
DIN DO A 173
Dingle dingle-dousie,
Be crouse ay, be crouse ay ;
Dingle dingle-dousie,
Ye'se hae a brose o* pease, &c.
Dink — To walk with a more affected air when in dress than
when not so.
DiNNLE — To quiver, to shake, &c.
Dinted — Struck, as with love.
DiRDUM — A battle with words.
DiRLiN — Acute pam, from scaulding.
Dish'd — Sorted, put in dishes.
DiSHALAGO — Coltsfoot ; a broad-leaved herb. Some use it as a
substitute for tobacco : it is a bad weed when it gets into
land ; there is no getting it out again, it roots so deep.
DisH-A-LooF — A singular rustic amusement. One lays his hand
down on a table ; another clashes his upon it ; a third his
on that, and on so. When all the players have done this, the
one who has his hand on the board, pulls it out, and lays it
on the one uppermost : they all follow again in rotation, and
so a continual clashing or dashing is kept up ; hence the name
dish. Those who win the ganae are those who stand out
longest, viz. those who are best at enduring pain. Tender
hands could not stand it a moment : one dash of a rustic
ioofyiovXA make the blood spurt from the top of every finger.
It is a piece of pastime to country lads of the same nature
as Hard-knuckles y which see.
DiSHCLOUT — The cloth dishes are washed with.
DisHNAP — The vessel dishes are washed in.
DisjASKET — Fatigued out; low in body, mind, and clothing.
DissLE — Trial severe of any kind.
DoACH — A waterfall ; or a trap for fish in a waterfall.
174 DOA DOD
DoACHS o' Tongue-land Water — The waterfalls of the Dee.
Their roaring noise is heard afar. Traps are set in them to
catch salmon fish.
DoAF — Without animation, lifeless. The earth of a garden is
"doaf" when, though it seems fat, nothing will grow on it
but weeds. That part of the body is " doaf " which is devoid
of feeling.
DoAFFiE — A lifeless fellow.
DocHTiE — Strong beyond appearance.
DocKENs — Dockweeds. Mine worthy original SadUr Hailiday
was once asked by a gentleman — what was the best method
of extirpating docketis out of gardens ? " Take a spade," quoth
the Saddler^ " and howk them out, dinna lae a single talon o'
the root ahin ; wash and lay them on the yard-dyke to dry ;
then bum them ; thaf s the best plan I ever kend." In truth
it surely was a most effectual one.
DoDDLES — Hard pellets of dirt which form on the tails of
sheep. When they begin to get young grass to eat in the
spring, they make a rattling noise on other when the animals
run.
DoDjELL Reepan — A bcautiful wild flower common in marshy
places. It is something of the figure of the feather in some
soldiers' caps ; of a conical form; not unlike a head of Indian
com, or a firrtap, the common colour of it is a lovely red,
but sometimes it is seen white ; its smell is very fine, and its
root is of a bulbous nature, and very much like the body of
an infant from the waist downwards. I have been thus
particular, because I cannot find it hinted at in any books of
botany that have fell in my way, and for some other causes
which will just now be told. There are few districts in
Scotland which have not their own name to this plant ;
in Annandale, and by the border^ it is vieadow rocket ; in the
/
DOD DOD 175
west, and greater part of Ireland, mount caper; t\it yirbwives,
my famous herbalists, tell me that this yirb, above all others,
should not be knowni to man ; that's to say, its virtues
should not be knowm to him ; but as I have come to
know what these virtues ascribed to this plant are, without
these old females' leave and without promising to any one I
should keep the important mystic, so I fail not to tell it.
The roots of this herb then, when decocted, that is,
boiled, and then mingled with a lukewarm lover*s-meat,
the female will get burning in love with the male who did
it, although she was very indifferent about him before, as
soon as she has swallowed the mixture, and will follow
her object through thick and thin, in spite of all opposi-
tion, until she obtains her love adored. How far this
holds true I cannot say ; persons have been pointed out
to me who have tried the same with success ; and the tales
respecting which are indeed wonderful pieces of fancy.
But much I am inclined to think that this reepan or rocket-
juice is a composition of mere nonsense ; had there been
any reality in it, I should not have been the first to give
it to the world ; for nothing of a hurtful nature to man-
kind shall come from me, if I am aware of it. Methinks
this sap will aid Cupid nothing more than a spioit d
tobacco brew. There is a poem in my wallet, entitled
" Something on the death d Dodjell Reepan, a game-
keeper ; " whether it is my own production or no I cannot
exactly say ; it smells something of my ugly fist. It may
' here be given, though there be nothing in it about the
plant in question but the name : —
And Dodjell Reepan's dead and damn'd,
The poachers whistling do tell ;
And he s hung up on a nag to be ham'd,
In the reekiest ncuk o' hell.
Mony a brute he laid fu' caul,
\Vi' his twa barrletl gun;
But death himsell at last did maul,
And thought it noble fun.
176 DOD DOl)
He missed a fit on the tap o* a dyke,
Ae day there lay wrides o' snaw,
And into ane o' em the petty tyke
Head foremost wi' a dart did fa'.
He kicked wi* fury three times at the sun,
Whaun he was a smooring fast ;
But, alas, the scalbert*s days war run
In the snaw wride he graned his last
M uny a puir cheel the hallion did trail,
Wha had may be shot a paitric or hare.
And ram'd him 'thout remorse i' the auld stinking jail,
Whar the day-light ne'er did stare.
For him a shepherd's collie durst na bark,
Nor a loving gibb-cat gie a mew ;
The corbie durst na croak, nor the flecket-pyet chark.
Else to death wad he them pursue.
Ae day he ram'd his han' in a fumart hole ;
The hole was i' the auld TafT-dyke ;
But sic pertness the fumart cudna thole,
Sae snacked the thum' o' the tyke.
And sank its alson tusks to the white hard l)ane,
Whilk pizioned the thum' for ay ;
And till he gat its head besnang'd wi' a stane,
Black bawdrons wad na let gae.
It wad hae gard a hauf-dead body laugh.
To see Dodjell louping about.
And gieing the hearty scraigh and squagh,
While the fumart hang by him fu' stout.
The harmless brock too he punsed in his den,
And worried him without grief,
Altho' auld brocksie ne'er ruffled a pen,
O* the game burds charged by the squeef
He nicher'd unco af\en like a new spean'd foal :
Was scooling and glieing ilk gate ;
His clyping manners wha cud thole ;
He gat aft a braw clowr'd pate.
He's gaen heels-owre-gowdie i' the mools ;
Ijct him //V fAt^rtTy his mourners are few ;
He was as mean a hyple as ere graced fools,
And a hatefu'er wratch nane e er knew.
For God's sake ye lairds wha be sportsmen mad,
Scare sic vile trash af yer Ian',
I'nless they be cronnies for ye base and !)ad,
And w'cv frirh do best un(ler>lan'.
DOI DOM 177
Doit — A copper coin ; the half of the boddle ; the twelfth of
an English penny.
Doited — In a state of dotage.
Dolly Beardy — In Galloway now slumbers a singular old song
and dance, called Dolly Beardy, After going through a
world of trouble with great pleasure, I got a hint respecting
the song, and here is the result of that —
Dolly Beardy was a lass,
De'il the like o'r on the grass,
Her lad was but a moidert ass.
Hey, Dolly Beardy.
•
Dolly Beardy had a leg,
Ay, and she cud mak it fleg,
And sometimes she was got wi' e^,
Hooh, Dolly Beanly.
Dolly Beardy had a cow,
Black and white about the mou'.
She keeped her ay rifting fu',
Smock, Dolly Beardy.
Dolly Beardy she cud whud.
About the bonny birken wud,
In spring time whan the saugh did bud.
Sweet, Dolly Beardy.
Dolly Beardy lo'ed a cheel,
His heart was cauld, it cudna feel,
Sae him and her gaed baith tae de'il,
Ha, DoUy Beardy.
Dolly Beardy steek thy een.
They do confound us whan their seen,
We lang to cuddle thee ateen,
Dear, Dolly Beardy.
Dolly Beardy's blinking e'e
Fairly hath dumfounder'd me.
She is a hizzie fu' o' glee,
Mark, Dolly Beardy.
Dolly Beardy ye hae craft,
Dolly Beardy we are saft,
Gallowa 'bout thee's nm daft,
Hech, Dolly Beardy,
Dominie — A schoolmaster. Dominie Hutchison d Clatuh-
enpluck^ author of that learned work the Infant^ price
. one penny. One of the rarest schoolmasters in Galloway,
M
178 DON DOO
and quite an original He is up to all the various branches
of learning, and teaches his scholars on the natural plan;
that is to say, whatever be the bent the Dominie checks it
not ; so his pupils become fond of him, and full of love.
Many he fits out for college, and some kirks in Scotland
have his pupils preaching in them.
To his various lore he adds that of ^sculapius ; and the
Dominie's medical skill is in high repute in the Moors. None
can " bluid " with him ; none can remove viruUnt so and
so's, like he ; and none can die without receiving a visit or
two first from the Dominie, I conclude with him at present;
but the article Peatnuik will bring the philosopher again on
the carpet
DoNSY — Neat, clean, honest-like.
DooL — Sorrow ; also a place of refuge.
DooL-HiLLS or DooN-HiLLS — There are several hills in Gallo-
way whereon have stood castles and other strengths of yore,
termed Dool or Doon-hills, These places of refuge seem to
have existed prior to the Roman invasion, as the name Dod
or Doon is never given to hills whereon are the remains of
Roman camps ; the labours of these hills then belong to the
ancient British or some Scandinavian wanderers.
DooLS — A school game ; and school games are by no means
things unworthy observation, as many of them bespeak
matters of the olden time ; the one of dools then, amongst
others, hints at something of this nature ; the dools are places
marked with stones, where the players always remain in
safety — where they dare neither be caught by the hand nor
struck with balls ; it is only when they leave these places of
refuge that those out of the doom have any chance to gain
the game, and get in, and leave the doom they frequentiy
must ; this is the nature of the game. Now this game seems
to have been often played in reality by our ancestors about
their doon-hills.
DOO DOG 179
*^OoL-STRiNG — A piece of black crape put round the hat to
show the world we are in dool and sorrow ; mourning deeply
about the death of some dear friend or relative ; the nearest
of kin to the deceased have commonly the largest dool-
strings. When this piece of fashion is considered a little
philosophically, it shews itself a thing of vanity at once ;
those always feel the keenest sensations of grief who wear
nothing of the kind. I have seen fellows with them hanging
half down their backs, attending the funerals of their wives,
who God knows if they felt very severely. Genuine sorrow
is like charity, it detests all shew and ostentation. Some
hypocrites never unrobe their chapeau of the dool-string,
but keep it constantly on for years together, though in course
of time it has changed its hue from black to browTi, and
becomes frumpled, like a piece of dry sea-weed.
Aidd Barrclye was a character somewhat of this kind ; he
used frequently to take a trip over to the Isle of Man in
quest of cattle. In one of these rambles he was attended
by a celebrated wag, nicknamed Sheeruess ; they had been
riding out on little Manx ponies in search of their object
one day, and were returning in the evening, to pass the night
in the gay little town of Douglas, when Sheemess intimated
to his friend Barrclye, that he would ride forward and see
to find proper accommodation for them and their shelties,
which was agreed on. Away scampered Mac^ and on
galloping up the principal street, he bawled out repeatedly
to the populace, " To clear the street, Barrclye's coming ; "
which astonished the Manxmen much. They imagined by
this that Barrclye must be a lord or duke, of mighty
eminence, attended by a grand retinue ; so they housed
instantly, and filled every window, as anxious spectators of
the coming scene. But lo ! how were they deceived, wheni
instead of the glittering cavalcade their fancies had drawn,
Tode hobbling into the amphitheatre Auld Barrclye, Hissing
and hootings instantly began, followed by an attack on our
i8o 1)00 DOW
old drover and his poney, who could not withstand the
shock of rotten eggs with which they were assailed, gave
way. Barrclye was unhorsed, and for once lost his old hat
and dark brown dool-string,
DooNHEAD-cLocK — A yellow flower common in the fields.
When the flower fades away, a fine down is left behind on
its head. Rustics, to know the time of the day, with thdr
tale of it, pull this plant, and puff away at its downy head;
and the number of puffs it takes to blow the down from off
it is reckoned by them the time of the day. So comes the
name Doon-head-clock.
DooNS — The same with Dools, which see.
Dottle — The little piece of half burnt tobacco left in the
pipe after smoking, useful when another pipe-full is to be
consumed in lighting it
DoucAT — A dovecot
DouDLiEDoo — A song of a singular amorous nature.
DouHALL — An easy-minded man ; one who rather wishes
himself to be considered a fool. Such characters are by no
means rare.
DouKER — The British bird cormorant See more of them in
the articles " Mochratn Laird*' and " Scaurt^
DouKiNG — Bathing.
DouNDRAUGHT — An Oppressive load.
DouNwoTH — A declivity.
Doup — The hinder end of anything. The doup of a candle,
the doup of the day, &c
DovERiN — Slumbering.
Dow — To be able.
DowiK — Melancholv.
v
DOW DOW i8i
-LYING — A woman is said to be about so when
is on the eve of introducing another sinner into this
•Id.
-Sitting — A place to sit comfortably down in. The
es are often not very willing to wed lads who have not a
n-sitting, like myself, to take them to ; and a lad not un-
om looks out for a lass who has the blunt; one, which
2 he married to, he would have no trouble with, such as
aiding various things for pUneshing and taking up house ;
whom he might just draw in his chair, and sit down,
lOut giving himself any concern about the troubles of this
Id. Many of our auld Scotch sangs are nothing more than
)unts of down-sittings, which our lads have from time to
I laid before their dears, in order to entice them to marry,
in Ramsey causes Roger, in his famous pastoral, to give
nie an inventory
" O' a' the woo' he did at Lammas sell,
** Shorn frae his bob-tailM bleaters on the fell."
of his other effects. But the strangest detail of a down-
ng I have any where heard of, was that of the laird o' the
Dws's, to a young milliner in Garliestown —
I hae fifty acre o* gude white Ian*,
And a meikle meadow that's vearly ma^n,
Twa hunner acre o* muirs and craigs.
And as warran' as meikle o' wild moss hags ;
I hae twunty stirks, and a dizzen yell nowt,
Wi' hay to gie them when they hungry rowt :
I hae four-score ewes, twa-score o' them's tippet,
And weighty their fleeces wey whan they are clippet ;
Twunty gates I hae now, I ance had but nine,
A sow and a boar, and sax ither swine,
Twa tykes, sax cats, but ye'll see them a',
My bonnie young lassie, gin ye'll come awa.
How happy we'll be in my father's auld house,
Well sit and we'll clatter wi* ither fu' crouse ;
Ye'll link on the pan, and fry braxy hams
While the herd and mc try a game at the dams.
For o ! in my kitchen the hams do hing
Sac thrang they canna get room to swing ;
I hae sackfu's o' carrots, and sybows and pease,
How fucly we'll live, my dear lass, at our ease ;
i82 DOW DRA
My peatdaig is fu* o* links o* gude peats,
Whilk the breath o* the north sae finely heats.
And my presses wi* blankets are weel panged a',
As thou shairt see, lassie, gin thouMt come awa.
The milliner, methinks, would have been foolish if she had
not left the bare trade of the needle for the laird and his down-
sitting.
DowpDOWN — Squatting ; or to squat out of sight suddenly.
Doyl'd — Crazed in mind.
DoYLOCHS — Persons doyled. Bums, the poet, was for many
years thought to be ^^ day led "^ by those who lived with him
and saw his ways. This was when he was composing those
poems which natiure's library will ever contain.
Drabb — A colour between white and dun.
Drabbles — Droppings when sipping food.
Drachled — Wet, covered with mud.
Draidgie — A funeral entertainment The following is a
question, "\Vhether it is more, proper to have a feast on
a person's entering this world, than one when it bids fare-
well ? "
The case much depends on circumstances : if it be an
heir to an estate that has made entree^ then a roaring feast
over him cannot be thought improper; but if any other
almost, it is not just reasonable to do so. Why should
we rejoice at a being's coming into this world so full of
sin, crime, trial, wretchedness, and woe? Surely, it is
rather mockery to hail it with gladness into a land of sorrow.
Was it into a paradise, the thing would be proper ; and
when it is a child of poor parents, the thing is a burlesque
on common sense. On the other side of the question,
an old bachelor, turning t/ie corner^ and leaving behind
nothing that will miss him, is not unlike the heir in
the other case. A good dredgie over him cannot be for
wrong. Let the gossips take a hearty bumper over him,
DRA DRA 183
and wish his soul a safe landing on the far distant shore :
That shore to which many a Columbus sails for, but
never returns.
But if it be any other, the thing has not reason with
it to say it is right ; for all others almost will be missed and
mourned for by some. Moreover, we know not how soon
we shall follow, so should not be merry. Were we sure
we should all go to Heaven when we died, then might we
rejoice at the death of a friend; but this we are never
sure of. The question therefore, nearly hangs on even
balance : —
For not to be ashamed to live,
Nor yet afraid to die,
What would I not with pleasure give.
If had the giving I.
A miUion earths, if they were mine,
Composed of solid gold,
I'd give without remorse or whine,
To have my soul inrolled.
Perhaps there is a den in Hell
A fitting up for me,
Where I eternally must yell
In horrid misery.
Never to have a moment's ease,
Nor feel one spring of joy,
?'or torturing demons, who will tease,
And all delights destroy.
O ! would some angel in mine ear
This intimation sound —
** Mactaggart, thou hast nought to fear,
•* Heaven hath thee worthy found.
'* In patience wait a little time,
* * Soon thou shalt be at rest,
** Be in the grand Empyrean clime,
** Amongst thy Father's bL-st."
But long on earth I may remain
In doubt and darkness drear,
A sinner marked with many a stain.
Before such things I hear.
And there's a chance I never may
Hear such like things at all.
Yet for them I will ever pray,
Tho' I should downward fall.
1 84 DRA DRE
I read the Scriptures, and believe,
But whiles I them forget,
Vice her webs around me weave,
And I can*t break the net
Tm told it is the heat of youth.
And that 'twill wear away,
O ! would it so, and let the truth
Ne'er leave me night nor day.
Drappie — A little spirits.
Drappykins — Drops or drams of spirituous liquors.
Drap-ripe — Drop-ripe.
Draw — A curling term, meaning to give the stone all the pith
in the arm.
Draw a Wutter Shot — ^A curling phrase, signifying to give
the stone so much strength that it may slide the length of
the mark, and no farther.
Drawing Cuts — Casting lots ; pieces of straw or wood are
cut of various lengths, according to the numbers that mean
to try their luck. One then takes and arranges them in
private, putting all their ends close together in one hand, so
that none of them may project beyond one another ; the
other hand is laid on this, so that nothing may be seen but
the ends. So the drawing goes on, and the one who draws
the longest cut is Jonah of the party. Bessie Bell and
Mary Grey, they war sic bonny lasses, that their ^oe,
by Allan Ramsey's advice, draws cuts to know which he
shall have.
Dreadnought — A top coat
Dree — To endure.
Dreech — To be plodding, constant at work, steady as the
water running.
Dreel — To drill, to exercise soldiers. When xoluntecrs
lately started in every parish to defend the country, in case
of a Buonaparte invasion, a country laird who commanded,
or dreePd a party of these raw military lads, used fi'e-
DRE DRI 185
quently to forget the technical words of command, when he
had need of them, to the no small amusement of both his
company and its spectators. Once, when the order should
have been, "Rear rank, step forward," he cried out, for-
getting the proper term, hack raWy start forret At another
time, when " right about wheel " should have been the thing,
he came out with the homely phrase, conie roufi like a iigget.
I should have liked to have heard this captain's orders at
such a place as Waterloo.
Dresser — A piece of furniture in kitchens for holding plates ^
bowls, noggUSy &c.
Dribble — A small quantity of spirits ; a few drops, not a
mighty gush ; a dribbling day^ a day that does not know
well whether to be wet or dry.
Driddle — To saunter, to step about carelessly.
Drifflin — Raining slowly.
Drift — A flock, a drove, also intention.
Dringin — Not working, hanging about.
Drive a Rig — A person is said to be able to '^ dritfc a rig'^
when able to reap as well as other reapers, and as fast He
is thought to be a youth of strength who can do this at
fifteen years of age, and the rustics applaud him accord-
ingly ; though I would advise all young lads not to strain
themselves for this praise, they will get no thanks for it
when old age attacks them sooner than it should do, bring-
ing with it a thousand evils, as they may plainly see if they
look round them. Be not men, therefore, in any respect,
imtil nature says it is full time.
Driving the Pleuch — This is done away with in Scotland
now, and it would be well for the farmers in England if
they did so also. It is the using a number of horses
far more than needful, and employing a man more than
enough to manage one plough. This man, or rather boy,
1 86 DRO DRO
was called with us anciently, the ^^ driver d the pUuch^
and had mostly a poor life of it from the ploughman,
or the one who steered the plough, as, when any thing
went wrong, the boy was always blamed. Sometimes
these boys would have got angry, drove the horses fest,
run the plough against rocks, and caused the crusty old
ploughman to be flung breathless from the stiliSj with a
broken rib or so.
Drochen — A very short little man. I have heard some say
of such, that " they cud na breest a ratton af a peat ;" that
is to say, they could not mount unto the back of a rat,
even of a turf, being so short ; and that when they were
on horseback, they look like a tcuU on a tammack ; a toad
on a little hill.
Drogget — Woollen cloth strangely dyed, worn by countiy
girls ; it is a slatish blue.
Drought — Dryness.
Drouket — Drenched, as with rain.
Droughty — Inclining to dryness ; some tiplers are still in that
state, and would dxvc^fire atid brimstone^ and put them in a
brandy glass.
Drow — An undefinable quantity of water.
Drowning the Miller — We are said to be drowning the
millery when we are pouring in too large a quantity of
water among the whisky to be mixed into grog ; and when
we over-do the thing thus — we have drowned the miller;
the phrase is very ancient, and comes from a just cause ;
if too much water be let run on a mill, the wheel
becomes drowned^ as it were, and will not move the
machinery; now, if the big or outer wheel be drowned,
the miller may be said to be also drowned, for he is flung
idle, and useless, when his mill will not work. " Dinna
drown the miller then,'' ye who take grog by a time,
DRU DUM 187
for it will render the machinery of your frames no good ;
swallow little water, and then the miller^ which is in this
case the heart, will not be drowned^ but beat away quite
active.
Druckensome — Inclined to drink to excess.
Drummock — Cold water mixed with oatmeal.
Drummylan — Wet land of gentle curves, and of cold till bot-
tom.
Drums — Curved wet land.
Drunted — Petted, huffed, &c.
Drunts — Fits of pettedness.
Druttle — An useless, good-for-nothing person.
Dubskelpers — Persons who ride fast on horseback — ** And
send the wash (or dubs) about on both sides of the way" —
Like John Gilpin.
DuDDERON — A person in rags.
Duffart — A dull person.
DuLLBERT — The same as above.
Dulse — Sea-weed which grows on the rocks ; some are fond of
eating it
DuLLTS — That pupil at the foot of his class.
DuMCHASERS — A species of male sheep, which seem to be
eunuchs by nature ; they chace and spoil the ewes in the rut-
ting season.
Dumfounder'd — Stupified, quite overthrown, foundered in
some voyage of ambition.
Dummie — A dumb person ; or one so deaf that will not
hear.
i88 DUM DUN
DuMNED — A hard, constant step in walking.
DuMPLiNS — Puddings made of sheep's blood, fat, and oat-
meal.
DuM-swAUL — Dumb-swell. A swell of the ocean, that
maketh no noise ; commonly these swells are the largest
waves that are seen before storms and after thenu Sailors
dread no waves but those which curve at the top, or are
made up of broken water. It is singular to see these large
waves, called Dumb-swaids^ when there is no wind, when the
weather is quite calm, this is only though a little before
the coming of the tempest The cause is the undulating
motion of the mighty waters ; when this motion is given
to the deep, it spreads over it much quicker than the
hurricane which gives it ; the storm enters the " wame d the
wavesy^ as Eddie Ochiltree would say — silently it rolls on,
till it encounters the rock-bound shore, and there in surges
wild it roars. I wonder what makes this Eddie so often
cross my mind, it is because he is the most poetical character
ever Scott drew, and will live the longest of all his original
family.
DuNNERBREEKS — A person, such as an old cobler, with
breeches so barkened or stiff and sleek wf dirt, that
they dunner, when struck, like a dried sheepskin; that is
to say, makes a noise like distant thunder. I have seen
a somewhat curious poem, which I may here give,
ycleped
THE DEATH O' Dr. DUNNERBREEKS.
What doolfu' news are thae we hear,
Our tenner hearts wiU never bear,
They canna stan' sic thumps ava,
They'll burst befuter'd ane and a*
Down sink our spirits faith wi' speed,
For Dr. Dunner})reeks is dead.
The mighty Dr. pang'd wi' lair,
Or rather wi' infectious air,
DUN DUN 189
The lengthen'd lecturing representer,
The original experimenter ;
(lis haum pan was aye sae fu'.
The mirkest scene he cud glowre through.
He drew out wonners by the slump,
The deepest ocean he cud pump.
Just at a glance he mair wad ken.
Than halfa hunner thoughty men,
The theory o' the yirth at ance.
He lighted on as if by chance ;
And set at nought the silly clatters,
O' ithers wi* their lues and waters,
For being an acute discerner,
Nae Hutton was a match nor Werner ;
Sae weel he kend the lay o' Stratas,
His judgment ne'er contained erratas.
He traced the cause o' burning mountains.
And queer Icelandic boiling fountains,
Shaw d reasons mair than onv can show.
Why bursteth out the fell volcano ;
'Twas just as reek comes frae the lum,
Or wun frae out his ain braid bom ;
For he delighted much in air.
He lo'ed his nether end to rair,
And ae night as he gaed to bed,
Wi* supper in his kyte weel fed.
Composed o' unco mixie maxies,
Whilk stough thegether waur than braxies.
He thought he'd an experiment
Try then, tho* he shou d it repent ;
Whilk was to ken if he was able.
Gin kyted air was inflammable.
Like oxygen, or hydrogen,
As said by mony chymic men,
Sae did he find his bounded wame,
Contained meikle o' the same.
For he cud never stir nor stoop.
But out in strings twad quickly proop ;
And whan he let it frae him flee.
Without restraint unsmother'd free.
The room wharin he was wad dinnle.
Ay a' the plenishen wad trinnle ;
Weel then he fin's a quantom form,
Sae he prepareth for the storm.
To ken exactly mf it was.
Composed o' a naming gas.
He gat a burning glim then ready.
To hand it to, wi' hand fu' steady ;
What was the singular effect.
Say ye wha sit and deep reflect.
Ye wha do owre ilk ither craw.
In drouthy arts like Algebra.
Wha lye and think, and think again,
And plot awa wi' haurns in pain ;
The truth o' here, is sad to tell.
I90 DUxN DYK
A tragic fate our sage befel,
llie tears frae baith our een do drap,
And on the yird do light and hap.
The gr.nd experiment proved fatal,
The Dr. fell, and lost the battle ;
His f — t took fire in a crack.
And to gasometer flew back.
When there the blue inflated air.
Exploded wi* tremendous rair.
And at the time the bag did burst.
Some s2Ly philosophy he curst.
Thus went the man wi' mighty head,
Thus Dunturbreeks gaed to the dead.
Was buried deep amang the mools,
In comer set aside for fools ;
There let him sleep, there let him j/«<7/.
His saul will stink the de'ils fiae hell.
DuNSH — To but, to push, &c.
DuNT — A blow, also to palpitate.
Dusty — ^A name for a miller.
DwAMLE — To faint, or look like fainting.
DwAMLOCK — A very sickly person.
DwiNiNG — Pining, decaying.
Dyke — A fence. Anciently dykes were built for confining
mankind to certain portions of the earth ; as those the
Romans built in Scotland, to keep at bay the daring Scots ;
and that one by the Chinese to hold out Tartars*, considered
one of the wonders of the world ; now they are only used to
inclose brute cattle ; some people make a trade of building
dykes, one of these must have been Davie the Dyker^ as the
following Poem doth testify :
What horrid news are thae we hear,
Owre true they be, we fear, we fear,
Our een begin to brew the tear,
Wi' sabbing speed ;
Puir Davie wham we lo'ed dear,
Is smothcr'd dead.
DYK DYK 191
The sclateban o' the quarry shott.
Afore our worthy out o't got,
And crush'd him lifeless' on the spot,
Without remorse ;
Sae he was carried to his cot,
Ane manglM corse.
O ! dreadfu ' shocking news thae be,
The body we*ll awa and see.
Upon his back, and eke his knee.
We aft war borne ;
Us bo3rs about may lang for he.
Lament and mourn.
He never fley'd us frae nor fun.
The blucl4on and the billet gun —
Ay glakes that birl'd in the wun.
Did Davie make ;
By him too dragons ne'er the sun.
Their tails did shake.
And was there ever ere his like.
At bigging o* a Strang Stanedyke^
He was na fractious, dip na fyke.
For meikle doon ;
He sought for through-ban's that wad rike^
And capes wad croon.
His dykes had ne'er the sleek 'd skin,
Ne'er fair without and fause within.
He didna batter ^ line^ and /m,
To please the e'e ;
There ne'er was heard a clanking din,
Whar bigged he.
A rickl'd rood ne'er left his han',
His dykes for centries will stan'
A slap wi' clutter's never fa'en,
In ane o* em pet ;
May they the name o' he puir man.
For ages get.
Ower moor and dale for mony a year,
May Davie's famous dykes ap))ear,
Ne er bilged out wi' wather-wear,
But just the same ;
As when, puir cheel, he left them there —
To bear his name.
Nae wadder fleet can ower them jump.
If e're they try't back on their rump,
They will recoil wi' whulting bump.
E'en Rigling RaUions ;
Wi' rattling doddles arset stump,
Our down gae brail ion:>.
192 DYK DYK
Had he been wi' the chaps lang syne,
\Mia wad the ancient Scots confine,
(The Romans war they if we min')
\Vi* meikle dyke ;
Brave Grahm wad been waur to baud in,
The norlan tyke.
Auld Agricola had na ane,
In a' his core cud bed a stane.
Let learned historians write, and gnme
Out what they like ;
Wi' our puir Davie they had nane.
Cud big a dyke.
The thing is queer to think o*t yet,
For a' the fowk the Romans beat,
Our countrymen they ne*er cud get
Squeezed 'neath their pride
Our Claymores gaed them a' the pet,
Sair tools to bide.
But Davie, what's a' this to thee,
It wunna change the stem decree,
Whilk sinners us we sadly see.
For ever mair ;
In thy cauld den thou soon will't be.
Our hearts are sair.
Wi* you nane cud the Gellock wield,
The yellest craigs for you boud yeal'd,
What hoolochs down ye clantering reeled,
At ae gude /fia' ;
And junrells till the echoes peal d,
O* munstrous size.
Wi' jumper too, ye whiles wad bore.
And make the rocks wi' powther roar,
Whilk scar'd the pellocks frae the shore
Wi' smacking fin ;
What Maukins too wad scud afore
The dundering din.
O' war we rhymesters sae profite,
As epitaphs on thee to write.
To thee the muses should indite
(Our honest Cronnie) ;
Ane that nae saul alive cud wyte,
'Twad be sae bonny.
But hoh-anee we'er a' unfit.
The attempt wad only be a skit.
For want o' pith then, we'll submit —
** Na faith (cries out,
Ane honest muse) come hae at it,
**WV11 do ne'er doubt."
DYK EEN
193
((
Our dyker Davie, flesh and bane,
** Is streeked un'emeath this stane,
** But sure to heaven his saul is gane,
" Gif ony gangs ;
** The rulers there, o' never ane,
** Deserving't wrongs. ''
Dykie — A little bird of the chattering species, common about
old Dykes ; it is of various colours, lays five small white
eggs, and is not unlike a cock sparrow, but not quite so
large.
E.
Eakin — Adding to, making larger.
Eak o' Woo* — A kind of oil that is on wool when newly shorn
from the sheep.
Easle — E^twards .
Eazles — The eves of houses.
Ebbie — Ebenezer, the name.
EcHO-STANE — A black hard stone, full of holes, common in
meadows and bogs. They can be made into good channle-
stanes. Their cavities make them of a sound-returning
nature, hence the name.
Eddie — The name for Edward.
Eeked — Joined to.
Eenow — Even now.
E'enshanks — This term has the same meaning with Ancmm or
Antrim, which see. It was that food our ancestors took about
five o'clock in the evening, now designated by the title oi four-
hours, and being thus taken about the close or end, or shanks
of ^m, or evening, the name Eenshanks arose. At an E en-
shanks neither tea nor sugar made their appearance; no Indian
nor Chinese spicery were to be seen. Magellan had then
doubled Cape Horn, nor Gama, its brother. Good Hope.
194 EER EIN
Nothing but Scotia's hard-fourC food graced the table in thes
days. The poet would never have had cause to spout the
following verse extempore, upon a young lady who took no
sugar to her tea, (as is the way with many a delicate Misi)
gif the feast d Eenshanks had yet existed —
** Afethinks, my dear, you scorn the sugar-bowl,
** Yes, leave t to those who're sour and tough ;
** For O ! my darling, lovely soul,
** Thou art already swed enough.
it
Eerie — Terror, fear, &c. ; for beings of a supernatural stamp
many are afraid to walk alone under night ; these are of an
eerie nature.
Eetch — The adze, the carpenter's tool.
Egged — Stirred up.
EiN — Even, direct, &c.
EiNiNG FowK — The country people had a fashion some
time ago of pairing the young folks about ; that is to say,
if a young man had taken a girl to be his partner at a
dancing school, or if he had been seen speaking to one
about the kirk-stile ^ or any other popular gatherings these
two were instantly eind^ evened to one another ; and when
a pair became thus eind^ the very clash of the parish brought
them soon to be cried. So this eining did some good to the
cause of marriage. Now, however, people are got more
hard V the mouthy and set such a small value on clashes and
sneers, that eitiirig fowk becomes a vain trade. Manners,
somewhat similar to these, will be found treated upon in the
article — Gaun to a House, For sometime past, the matrimonial
market has been far from being brisk^ like many others, so
that in some parishes a wedding has not taken place in a
twallmotithy which is the space of a year in time : —
What's come owre the lads, lasses,
Hae they ta'en the thraw,
When sac few o* cm marry, lasses,
Few or nane ava ?
EIN ELF 1 95
Cupid, waefu* chcel, lasses,
His dear arrows a',
He has shot awa, lasses,
Fairly shot awa.
Bachelors grow grey, lasses,
Frosty they are a',
They lae ye to gro^Y auld, lasses,
Rising scories twa.
This wark will never do, lasses,
Never do ava,
Nature, ay, respect the lasses,
Gar us feel thy law.
Again fill Cupid's quiver.
And bid him shoot awa.
For the lasses, never, never,
Maun be despised ava.
Elden — Firing.
£lx>rich — An eerie sound. The shrieking of a ghost, any
wild supernatural noise that creates fear.
Elf-arrow-heads — Triangular pieces of sharp flint-stone,
which our forefathers pointed their arrows with. They
are sometimes found in Galloway, as they are all over Scot-
land, and being of stone, not of steel, are found as per-
fect as when used in war, for flint rusts not They are
called ^^ elf-arrow-heads,^^ because it was long thought
they were the workmanship of elves, and used by them
when shooting children, cows, what not. They were
indeed used by curious elves, as in the 25 th verse of
Hardyknute —
**The kingo' Norse, he socht to find
** With him to mense the faucht,
** But on his forehead there did licht
"A sharp onsonsie shaft.
'* As he is his hand put up to find
** The wound, an arrow kene,
** O ! waefu' chance ! there pinn'd his hand,
** In midst betwene his e'en."
Elfgirse — A kind of grass yerbunves find, and give to cattle
they conceive injured by elves.
f
196 ELF ELF
Ki.FRiNGS — On old pasture land, that slopes about at riglw/
angles to the rays of the Midsummer sun, circles, of all
diameters, from three to thirty feet, are to be seen ; and these
circles are beautifully defined by a kind of white mushroom
growing thickly all round the circumference, except about a
foot or two in some ; these spaces, unstudded with fungi,
are called the " elfdoors" the openings by which the elves go
into their circle or ring to hold the lightsome dance. As
superstition crows over philosophy, when the latter is not able
to point out the errors of the former, so with elfrings she has
every reason almost to clap her wings, for no sage nor naturalist
hath yet shewn the cause why these rings are formed. For
my own part, I have marked the matter with all the attention
I am capable of giving any thing, and yet must I own myself
partly overcome with it. That they are formed by the solar
rays, I doubt not a moment ; no animal on the earth has any
thing to do with their formation, because, on places where
the ground is not of the same declivous nature, these rings
deviate from the true circle, and the unevener the slope,
the greater the variety of circled, or ellipses of various
eccentricities; and where the rays strike at about a right
angle to the plane, there they are of equal radii.
But here comes the difficulty ; if the figures and situations
of the eif rings prove them to be the work of the sun's raj's,
how do the sun's rays produce them? Before the mush-
rooms grow, the grass of the ring seems as if it had been
withered by a scorching heat ; now, this must either
proceed from lightning, or from the sun ; that it proceeds
not from the former is evident by the form of 'the rings^
for mathematically it can be shewn, that on the plane
where is described an ellipse, if that plane had been of
the same angle with that on which is described a circle, that
ellipse would have been a circle also, which seems to prove
that the circles, let them be of what form they y^nW,
have all one grand centre, which is the sun, and that they
ELF ELF 197
only vary because their planes vary. Lightning could
singe out nothing of such regularity. About the summer
solstice, the rings are first observed singed, and in August
they get covered with mushrooms : this is a natural conse-
quence, because wherever grass is singed or blasted, there
start up clusters of the mushroom tribe.
I have heard of coup-de-soleils or sun-blows of the
tropical climates, and of people who have suffered by
such blows ; but I have never seen the account of any one
respecting how the sun inflicts them, and am inclined
to think that the way in which he does the one, he also does
the other. Were there for instance a ray of the Midsum-
mer s sun confined in a tube, and the motion of this ray
marked, on the hillside, from his rising until his going down,
I am almost sure that we would behold the manner in which
the grass is scorched and the circles struck out. But I
leave the matter until future observations can be made.
As for the elves having anything to do with them, is at least
rustic nonsense ; let the superstitious hold it out so or not.
For,
Like the mermaid and uniconi,
TalkM oftencr about than seen,
Are warlocks and worricows,
And elves upon the green.
They all are cattle that
Do feed u|X)n the Fancy's farm,
And they love those fancy pastures best
That are fertile and warm.
The poet's mnut they truly are,
And if he keeps them fu' and hale,
When he brings them forth to market
ile will meet with a sale.
Hut if they are not fat and good
His sale will be but small.
The critic butchers sneer at him,
They will not sell at all.
For their beef, when lean is bad.
It will not take the salt and keep,
And it plays the curse with honest folks,
And makes them fall asleep.
198 ELF ELL
Elfshot — a disorder with cows.
Ellwan* o' Starrs — Those three bright stars of the first
magnitude, or at least of the second, in the northern con-
stellation Lyra, the harp, I believe, if memory can be de-
pended on. These stars are among the most obvious to
naked eyes of any that bestud the welkin. Them, and the
" Cluster," as the country people call the constellation of
Orion, the Hunter, and ^^ Petet's Pieuch,^ otherwise Ursa
Major, or the Big Bear, strike at once the most rustic of
astronomers, and have struck them more than the rest in all
ages. In the ancient poetic book^iof Job a verse says
" Cans't thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, or
loose the bands of Orion ? "
Now, what are the Pleiades, but those seven bright stars
in the constellation of the Big Bear above mentioned, called,
some time ago, Charly WcUn^ but more anciently, Peter^i
Pleuchy and"Orion, the Cluster?
These stars then which draw the attention of men in all
ages deserve particular consideration, and none more so in
my opinion, than these three called by the Scotch the
''^ E/iwandf^ from their seeming to the eye to be about
equally distant from other, and in a straight line. Who
knows yet but this ellwand may indeed be used as an ell-
wand for measuring all over the earth. It is long now
since an universal standard for measuring has been called
for by the philosophic world, and none to give satisfaction
hath yet been produced. The earth has been actually
measured with a chain, I may say, from Pole to Pole, for
this purpose chiefly; and the great complaint always is,
the changeableness of the works of nature, The earth
alters of itself; the Poles flatten away, the Equator keeps
swelling out, the large luminaries of heaven are always
altering in size and situation with respect to the earth, and
nothing but the stars in any propriety can be said to be
fixed.
ELL ENL 199
From them, then, let a standard for measuring be taken,
one which will not alter, and one whose original may be
easily referred to by all nations. And what shall we
better get than the " Ellwand 0' Starrs^*" a measurement
held out to us by nature as it were. Let the apparent
length of this ellwand be taken, either by beads on a line,
or holes in a flat slip of wood, and so we may form an
universal elhvand. The natives of Iceland, Timbuctoo,
Pekin, Washington, and London ; yes, the great body of
the inhabitants of the earth, be their situations on it where
they will, will understand by this at once the foundation
of the measure, for the constellation in which is the
^*' ellwand'^ being Orion's Girdle (nigh the range of the
ecliptic), it may be seen every uncloudy night by mostly
all men on the globe.
Emmers — Embers.
Enlang — Endlong. I have heard country people frequently
discussing about the propriety of these sayings ; the first is,
" / came owre the brigP This is wrong they argue, it should
be, I came enlang the brig^ the other meaning as much
that I went over the side of it or ledge^ and into the
river. Now, both expressions are perfectly right I
came over the bridge, and I came endlong the bridge
are one and the same thing; for why not as well come
over the bridge as the road comes, as go <n^er its side.
Secondly, "It is not right to say we are going up when
we are going south; we should always say down to the
souths and up to the north J^
Now it is not proper nor right to say whether we are
either going up or down when going either south or north-
ward. There is no occasion to add either the one or the
other. Up and down refers to high and low; and the
south is just as high as the north.
200 EPP EVE
Eppie — The female name Euphemia, Who ever heard r>ip
old witch, Eppie Foggiehorn, sing
O ! my love was a fairy,
And could dance round the moon.
My path, too, was airy.
In the welkin aboon :
But a damn'd worricow
Cam between us somehow,
And hath sinner'd us now.
The auld grim badger loon.
Sae nae mair on the carry
We will ride now away,
And in regions sae starry
We will never mair stray ;
For we're baith in the dark,
0 ! Hell is our mark.
And auld Nick is our Clark,
He tells us what to say.
llien the sea it may ebb.
And the sun it may shine,
1 hate whan my neb
Smells on earth aught divine.
Arise thou black blast,
Obey every cast.
Let the warl stand aghast,
And the tempest be mine.
Now the deep is in foam,
Now the sky it is black.
Now the wild waters roam.
And the waves ither smack.
Fling the yirth af her whirl,
O I strike her a skirl.
That nae mair she may birl
On her auld batter'd track.
Even Downpour — A shower of rain which falls almost
perpendicular from the clouds. These showers are frequent:
in sultry weather ; and, when the air is charged with elec^
tricity, they are something akin to the water-spout.
FAD FAI 201
F.
"a — Fall ; also to become.
"ad DOM — Fathom, plumb, &c.
'"ae — From ; also foe.
•'aedum — Witchcraft
"aem — Foam. In stormy weather, the foam which gathers on
the margin of the sea is often lifted by the wind and carried
miles into the country.
:^AGGED — Fatigued.
i^AGGENS — The weary ends of anything.
n^AiGHLOCHS or Faishochs— Sony working labourers ; alwa y
seeming busy, yet putting little work past them.
Fair-Farrand — Open, free, inclined to flattery.
Fairies — ^These beings are yet often to be seen and heard of
in the South of Scotland. One came to z.gudewife once, and
wished her to give an ^^aiamons" of meal. The mistress
complained she had little meal in the house. " Gie ay,
(quoth the fairie) a part o* what ye hae to a poor body, and
ye'll never lose." The wife obeyed her, and, continued the
fairy, " sae lang as ye never look in the girnel ye shall ay
bring plenty o^ meal out o' it wi' your hand." She did so for
some time, but one day feeling a curiosity to behold the ex-
haustless store, she looked in, and there was an empty ^r/ie/;
so ever afterwards she had to fill it herself.
Another time a man met on an evening a funeral. The
people with it seemed fatigued, and desired the honest
man " fo tak a lift d the corpse:' " I'll do that (quoth he) in
^ude's namcy' which he had no sooner said than they all
disappeared, leaving him with an empty coffin. The man
died soon after. This was a Fair\ FiineraL
202 FAI FEG
Fairins — Presents given at fairs.
Fairntickles — Freckly spots on the skin.
Fallderalloes — Foolish unneedful things.
Fankle — When cloth is in unrid folds, it is said to be in a
fanklc.
Fanners — Machines for winnowing com.
Fanked — Warped in cloth.
Farkage — A bundle of cordage, so confusedly warped, that
there is no ridding it out ; or a bundle of various things in
a similar state.
Farkle — This word, and the one above, are one and the
same ; none of them, be it known, are what the Latins called
" verba recens jicta^^ new coined words, though I am not able
to ferret out their proper derivations.
Farle o* Bread — A cake of bread of oatmeal, bent with
toasting.
Faugh-blue — Bleached blue.
Faugh-lan — Fallow land.
Faul about the moon — Fold about the moon.
Feckless — Weak in both body and mind.
Feeding o' frost — A slight thaw, amid frosty weather ; after
thaws of this kind, the frost commonly becomes more severe
than ever; hence they are said X.o feed ^t. frost
Feerie — Fearless, strong ; a fearie auld man, a hale old man,
considering his age ; strong amid the years of infirmity ; a
fearie wight, a being that can endure much trouble :
** Wallace Wight, upon a night,
** Did burn the bams o' Ayr,
** And claw'd the croons o' southern loons,
** Whilk they mind ever mair." —
Auld sang.
Feggs-- P'aith. Upon vay/eggs, upon my faith.
FEI FIN ao3
Feigh — An exclamation of disgust
Fell — The broad muscles of the body; it is between the
"/r// and tJu flesh^^ say country doctors, that water in the
" dropsy " gathers.
Fell — Strong, hardy, perhaps from having good muscles.
Fell — Biting hard ; also, a wild rocky range.
Fell o' Barullion — A lofty fell^ or range of high hills in
Wigtonshire, famous merely for the name ; where find we
a stranger name for a mountain than Barullion 1 Barool^
the chief mount in the Isle of Man, is somewhat like
it, but not so sounding; and as for Etna^ Hcckla^ or
mount Blanc, they have nothing to say to it on this
score ; even Chimborazo, the loftiest in the world, has not a
more lofty name.
Fend — A way of living on the border of want, but not in
absolute want either.
Fewls — Fowls, if large.
Fib — A lie, an untruth.
Fillie-tails — Little ragged clouds, something resembling
imcut horse-tails, hence the name, they forbode windy
weather :
•* When frae the south whusk filly-tails,
** Than high ships wear low sails." —
Auld say,
FiMMERiNG— Moving the feet swiftly, either in dancing or •
walking ; yet moving them at the same time with a singular
grace of person.
Finn IE — A feel with the hand, or ratherly a feel which returns
with good tidings to the senses ; persons purchasing grain,
generally estimate the price of it, by its finnie, or the way in
which it feels :
** A wat Mav and a winnie,
** Bring a fu stack-yard and a finnie." —
Auld say.
204 FIP FLA
The meaning of which is, that a wet and windy May month,
is such weather that makes crops grow good ; so that they
fill the stack-yard, and the grain feels weel.
FiPPLE — The underlip ; when dull about any thing, we are said
to " king the lip;'' and when those around us wish us roused,
they say we would answer well for eating Peelock potatoes ;
for why ? we might be cooling one in o\3X fipple^ while eating
another.
Fired — Milk is said to be so when it gets ill tasted, in sultry
weather ; also, any part of our skin, injured by walking in
warm weather, is said to be "yf/r^."
FiRE-FLAUCHT — A broad body of fiery meteoric matter, fre-
quently seen flashing through the regions of the atmosphere ;
the common name is a fire-flaticht^ but sometimes a firey
dragon ; and some say " they have heard them fa' in the sea
aften, and gae fizzing to death," which is reckoned a great
kindness of Providence ; for had they lighted on the land,
" The Lord be near us, it is thought they wad hae cramped
the folk up rump and stump, wi' tusks o* red gaud aim."
FiRESPANG — A quick tempered person.
FissLE — To make a rusthng noise.
FiTSTEDS — Marks of the feet
FiiTiE — Having good feet, safe enough to walk with ; also an
imaginary personage, of an extremely useless nature,
with which we compare real persons, as " ye^re as useless
as fittie^' or ye can do a certain job, " nae mair than
fittur
Fitting-peats — The art of setting peats on end to dry.
Fizzing — Hissing, the noise red iron makes when flung in
water, or ale in bottles when uncorked.
FizzioNLESS — Sapless, without pith.
Fladge — A broad-bottomed person, any thing broad; the
same with bladge.
FLA FLE 205
Flaff — A puff of wind, raised with one's hand, or a fan.
Flaiper — A foolish person, both in dress and manner ; more
particularly if this manner aims at something out of that
person's sphere of action.
Flaipering — Flashing about in foolish clothes.
Flakes — Parts of fences which cross barns; they are a kind
of gate hanging the wrong way.
Flapdawdron — A tall ill-clad person, viz. clad in clothes not
befitting the body.
Flaucht — Anything broad.
Flauchters — Broad tufts.
Flauchter-spade — A spade for fleying land.
Flauming — Flaming, exerting, &c.
Flaws — The points of those nails which hold shoes on horse-
hoofs ] the smith twists them off when they get through the
hoof.
Flecked — Pied, black and white.
Fleeing-buss — A rapid burning fire is said to go like a
fleeing duss, or a whin-huss on fire ; for when one of these
bushes is set fire to in a windy day, we think by looking at,
that the blaze is, as it were, taking the bush with it, before
really it has it consumed ; hence fleeing-buss^ or fleeing,
flaming-buss. The cause of this optical delusion is, that by
looking at a rapid burning fire, our eyes dazzle ; they mount
with the flame, as it were, and take with them the what feeds
it also — it is just refraction ; we see the sun, after he is in
truth set.
Fleetch — To insist and whine ; to entreat kindly.
Fleeter — A full. A bumper.
Fleg — A swinging blow ; also, to walk with a swinging step.
Fleggin — Walking fast.
2o6 FLE FLI
Fleuchino — Anything very light ; to what it seems, more in
bulk than weight, the light chaff or floTvingy is sometimes
i^Tva^di flenching, but more conmionly light grain.
Fleuks — Flounder fish. Boys, in the neighbourhood of sandy
shores, have great work tramping fleuks , which is accom-
plished by wading softly on the sand banks ; and when the
feet tramp on the backs of the fish, they are held, until the
hands dive and grapple them more secure.
Fleups — Broad feet
Flichan — A light person, and small.
Flitchers — Light flying flakes, such as of snow; when the
snow, at the first of a storm, is like fine dust, as it
comes from the air, it is a sure sign that the storm is
going to be one of long continuance, but if the flitchers
be broad, it will upple sooner. It is the same way with
the drops of rain. Rain never falls in large drops long,
and never falls in large drops at all, unless there is much
heat in the atmosphere. For warm water runs through
a sieve much sooner than cold ; from this we may infer
the cause of the severe snow storm, when it begins to
fall like dust, or what is called " snastowre : " for then a
most intense cold prevails, caused by a frosty air, and dense
clouds.
Flim — Film. Matter of a mucous nature, which gathers in
the throat Tipplers say, " that a dram o* strong farintosh
in the morning, cuts the flimP — See more of this under
" Floomr
Fling — To drive with the feet in walking.
Flingbag — A bag or wallet for the shoulder.
Flingstick — A rowly-powly man.
Flipe — To peel ; to flipe the skin off" any part of the body, is
to peel or strip it oil
FLI FLU ao7
Flirds — People of a vain, silly, dressy disposition.
Flisk — To fret, to flaunt, to whisk the tail, &c., as an ill-
natured horse docs.
Flitting — Removing from one place to another; also the
things removed. "As ane flits, anither sits," is an old
Floam — The same Flint* I am rather at a loss to know
whether this word is a corruj)tion of Flinty thin pellicle, or
phlegm humours of the stomach, probably the latter.
Flochter — A person looking extremely big, and wishing
all eyes to observe.
Floggan — Walking fast.
Flonkies — Waiting men, lackeys ; I wonder gentlemen keep
so many of these creatures about them ; for, instead of
adding anything to their dignity as noblemen, they detract
from it.
Flory — A very dressy person.
Flowpeats — Peats of a soffc nature, cut out of flows.
Flows — Large soft marshes, of a spongy nature, haunts of
snipes ; and it is fine fun to wade in them, and shoot at
these nimble birds on the wing ; to catch young wild ducks
too, in them, is a favourite job with sportsmen when they
have good water dogs.
Flugaries — Nonsensical j)ieces of dress, furniture, or any
unneedful article of a foolish appearance ; a person fond
of such is called a flugarie : also one mad in love is said to
be in a flagarie ; the words mean the same, for be it
known they are burning for a mean person, or one quite
out of their station ; perhaps this word, and the Latin
flagro^ " to bum with love," may be of a kin.
FlUxMRIe — See Smvens,
2o8 FLU FOR
Flush — A wet soft piece of land; also, to be too liberal in
flinging away money.
Fluster — A person is said to be in a ^^ fluster ^^ when seeming
more drowTied in business than needful, and driving all to
destruction.
Fluther — To flutter in dust, as chickens and partridges do.
Flyam — Those large tangle sea-weeds, which grow round
shores ; yet the tide seldom ebbs from around them. —
There are few finer scenes than those seen out of a boat,
on a calm sunny summer day ; down amongst these tangle
one is most forcibly struck with the abode of nymphs
of the sea ; the tangle waving so beautifully beneath the
translucent fluid, and sweetly gleaming in the darkened sun
beams.
FoARDSDAY — Thursday.
Fogg IN Ewes. — Old ewes, past the days of lamb-bearing.
FoRE-NiCHTS — The fore part of the winter nights ; in summer
there are no fore-nichts. They are the spaces of time
between gloaming and going to bed ; spaces taken off
the long nights, and added to the short days, as it were.
But of all the hours which wing their way over a pea-
sant's head, none are so dear to him as those of the fore-
nichts. For if he has a wife and family, then he may be
said to enjoy them and be happy. If he be a bachelor of
social disposition, then he is out at parties amongst his
neebours, or some of them are with him ; and if he be
of a studious habit, then he may read books, enjoy him-
self with feasting on literature, and pondering the abstruse
sciences.
Many a famous self-taught scholar the fore-nights have
made in Scotland ; many a notable tale and song they
have produced ; they are the delights of all classes of
kintra folks, to none more so than lovers, and the rare
FOR FOW 209
sons of rustic genius ; these latter revel in extacy during this
season.
IVunnoingf otherwise cleaning com; knitting stockings,
muffeteesy and loofies, cobbling shoon^ and what not, may
somewhat run contrary to the employments of pleasure ;
yet, still the joy of joys is to be found in the lang 7vunter
forenichts, — Dear to my soul is the country ; long was I a
Ruricola,
O ! but I love the country well,
But true I love its labours ill,
Sweet 'tis in rural world to dwell,
But sour to mow, and shear, and till.
And this proceeds all from the heart,
For some delight to sweat and toil.
Dear nature scorn — and relish art.
Poor greedy grub worms of the soil.
They never hear the burdies sing,
They never feel the evening breeze.
In vain for them primroses spring,
Or leaf in majesty the trees.
Give them the what their kytes will cram.
Or lumps of ore to fill the purse —
They want no more, all else they damn.
What I consider joy, they curse.
But let ilk man pursue his plan,
Let all have liberty of soul.
Let every man stand by his clan,
And slavery have no control.
FoRFOCHTEN — Sorely fatigued.
FoRGETTLE — Having a bad memory.
FoRNENT — Over against, right before. A female which dances
right before her partner.
Fou — Intoxicated with spirits ; also, a full of anything.
Foumart — ^The polecat ; anciently /ou/mart^ from its horrible
smell ; marf, from its being of the species of martin.
Fourpartdish — An old measure, the fourth of a peck.
Fows — The house-leek, said to cure the dropsy.
o
2IO FOW FRE
Fows — Prongs. Forks for hay.
FoY — A parting feast ; the same ^^nth Bonncllo,
FozziE — Not solid, porous, &c.
Fractious — Fretful.
Free — Anything brittle, such as free-stone.
Freets — Superstitious observances, with respect to omens good
or bad, more commonly bad ; the greater part of which now-
a-days, though they be observed, are not paid great attention
to ; yet, on the whole, they are ratherly respected. A aip o
saut is yet to be put on a corpse, from the time it is straughtid
until it be coffined; also the dead are waked with great
solemnity. The shoes are yet twisted of the hoofs of mares
before they bring forth their young, and they are by no means
allowed to foal in stables. An horse-shoe is put thrice
through beneath the belly, and over the back of a cow that
is considered clfshot. Ei/girse is given to this cow ; a burn-
ing pf at is laid down on the threshold of the byre door ; she
is set free from her stake, and driven out ; if she walks
quietly over the peat, she remains uncured ; but if she first
smells, then lets a spang over it with a biilyj she is then
shaned^ cured. If at the funeral one at the handspahes
misses his foot, and falls beneath the bier, he will soon be
in a coffin himself. If we are on the way to rid an errand^
yet forget something, we will have no luck that day. A
hare, to cross our path, is a bad omen. If a knife be
found lying open on the road, few will dare to lift it
Even a preen, if the broadside is not found lying towards
the face, will not be touched. A broom or co70 is thrown
after curlers, when they leave a house ; this is shaning
them good luck : and the blue dead lights, which appear
before a death, what omens are they ; these lights are seen
in the air, about the height a corpse is carried, and bobbing
up and down, the undulating motion of corpse bearers ;
they are seen to leave the house where the person is to
FRE FRE 211
die, and go to the grave where the interment will take
place ; to kep these lights is not right conduct ; a man did
so once, when the corpse came to that place on its journey
to the grave, there a fear came over the burial folks, they
could not move farther, until the man told the tale of the
dead light ; three things are ay sonsy\ but why need I note
so ? I could tell more than a hundred, without being any
way exhausted ; let these be a swatch^ however. I shall still
continue saying a little more on the subject with respect to
those freets^ which come from one generation to another, in
the shape of little rhymes :
** Sit and see the swallow flee,
** Gang and hear the gowk yell,
" See the foal afore its minnie s e'e,
" And luck that year will fa' thysell."
Which means, when we are sitting, the first time we see the
swallow flying ; walking, when we first hear the cuckoo ; and
the first foal we meet with, if it be before the eyes of its
mother^ that will be a fortunate year. The great anxiety
young women are in to know any thing about the husbands
they are to have, gives rise to numberless /r^<f/j/ one of these
is, when the new moon is first beheld, they sally out to the
green braes in bevies, and there each pull a handful of grass,
saying, at the same time,
** New moon, true moon, tell me if you can,
*• Gif I hae here a hair like the hair o* my gude man."
Viz. Among the gixiss pulled, which is carefully searched,
and if a hair be found among it, which is generally the case,
the colour of that hair determines the hue of the expected
gude man^s.
The three first days of April are called borrowing days^ and
Utitfreets of them nm so —
** March borrows frae April
** Three days, and they are ill ;
** The first o' them is wun and weet,
** The second it is snaw and sleet,
** The third o' them's a peel-a-bane,
** And freezes the wee burds neb tae stane."
212 FRE FRE
Magpies cause other curious freds^ according to the number
of them seen at any one time together.
** Arte' 5 sorrow — Twc^s mirth,
** Three^s a burial — Four^s a birth,
** Fh'is a wedding — Six brings szaith,
• « SevaCs ixVizx—AuMs death. "
A mist about the last days of the moon's age, brings with it
2i.freeL
*' An auld moon mist,
** Never dees o' thrist."
It is said of February —
** That February fills the dyke,
" Either wi' the black or white."
And of Candlemas day —
" Gif Cannelmas day be fair and clear,
** We'll hae twa wunters in that year."
And '''Gin the Laverock sings afore Cannelmas, she'll moura
as lang after" t." — I conclude with the following bunch of
freets : —
** Grumphie smells the weather,
" And Grumphie sees the wun,
** He kens whan cluds will gather,
'* And smoor the blinking sun ;
•* Wi' his mouth fiC o' strae,
** He to his den will gae ;
** Grumphie is a prophet, wat weather we will hae."
•* Whan we steer the greeshoch,
** Gif the lowe be blue,
** Storms o' vfyxn and weather,
** Will very soon ensue."
** Whan flares o' Easlin light,
** As the sun starts frae his bed,
** Makes the cluds a bluidy sight,
** Changing them frae blue to red,
*' Or the blazing cheel wuns owre,
*' The Keystane o' the lift ;
" The weather wet will pour,
" For the wun it will shift,
** The \fMXi it will shift, and the deep it will swaul,
" The faem it will flee, and the broyliment will brawL"
French Buiterflees — The common white butterflies . ,
the Pontia of learned insect men, I believe, and of the
FRE FRE 213
class Ltpidoptera; when war raged between this country
and France, our patriotic youths hunted these poor but-
terflies over hill and dale, armed with whun cows^ and
destroyed as many of them as they possibly could ; having
the idea that they really were from France, and being of
the colour of the French flag, white, decided the matter.
The red butterfly was called the British one, the Apatura
of naturalists ; it was venerated ; to slay one of them was
considered a horrid crime.
Frettie — Fretful. Many people are naturally so, and keep
their circle of acquaintances about them in het water. Give
them the whole world, they would not be half contented ;
the following is a rhymed sketch of a
FRETFUL FARMER.
We hate to hear a body whinning,
For ever frettie and repining.
Like Robin o' the risk ;
He never wears a joyfu' e'e.
Nor taks a laugh right merrilee,
The blockhead ne'er looks brisk.
There's something wi' him ever wrang,
He's yawping ay a yammering sang.
Wi' nature he is ay at war,
And wi' her weather he dis spar,
For never half she pleases ;
Altho* his crap waved rich and gude,
Tho* swaul'd nis nowt wi' beef and blude,
Sweet joy his heart ne'er eases.
Nor wadna tho' the hale yirth's skin,
Belang'd to him baith out and in.
Wi' a big rent he is na racket,
His lair claps on him nae strait jacket y
He may be aySw farmer;
MaT^ plough whare'er he will, or maw.
And he has bonnie baimies twa,
Wi' ane wife just a charmer.
Nae matter still, still the poor saul's yuming,
And ever about naithing mourning.
2 14 FRK FUF
Wcel really he deserves to get,
Ane actual something for to fret,
Sin he be sae dooms keen o*t ;
We wadna wonner but or lang,
The fool maun sing anither sang,
And kenna what*s the mean u*t.
Like yon big bairn wha whumper'd ay and grat.
Gat frae a' WuUiewan ance what it ne'er forgat.
Than will his com look weel i*e braird,
His scythes row owre a famous swaird,
And no a silly whittery ;
Nae fleuchan than will grow his wheat,
His pcclocks will be sweet to eat.
And no puir scabbed chittery.
The weather then won't be owre wat or dry,
But pleasure than flow baith frac yirth and sky.
At nature ay to girn and thraw,
Whan she's doing us na ill ava.
Is sure a sin infernal ;
And even suppose she sooks the purse,
Still her we ne'er sud dare to curse,
hut wi' her live fraternal.
A man has i)ower whiles owre his fellow man,
But nature scorns it do he a' he can.
Whane'er she likes a storm she'll blaw,
I'lither o' rain, or hail, or snaw.
And we puir sauls maun bear it ;
For no a single doit cares she.
Whether wi' it we happy be,
Or whether we do sneer it.
Sae Robin think and l(X)k about ye fool,
(Jr gang some months to Reason's Boarding Schoui.
Frils — Ruffles.
Froad — Froth.
Frush — Unsound, decayed, &c.
FuDD — The tail or ^;///// of a hare.
Fuddle — A spell at tippling.
FuDjKLLS — Fat contented persons.
FuFF — To puff.
1*' u V V I , K — To tu ftl u .
FUR FYA 215
P'URBEAST — The horse which walks in the furrow when
ploughing.
FuRDER — To aid, to prosper.
FuRTHY — Forward.
Fyaam o* auld Glens — It is a thing quite impossible for
me to express the meaning of this fyaam, or fume pro-
ceeding from old glens, except to keen naturalists, who
have felt it. It is the scent of Melancholy, as it were, in
her abode in lonely glens. So soon as the smelling organs
feel it, the soul is alive to all the charms of solitude, and to
unutterable objects in the wild bosom of nature. It is
a something like the poet's " Hollow hum in the dark green
wode."
" There is a pleasure in the pathless wood,
** There is a rapture on the lonely shore " — Sayeth Byron.
And Byron is a wild strong bard, with some little errors
hanging about him, thought great by some, whereas the
truth is, they are the mere dust on the sandal soles of
mighty Madam Genius.
What curse is this within my brain,
, Which sinks me thus so gloomy sad,
With beating heart, and head in pain,
Upon the ixjint of running mad?
Am I a sinner black and bad,
And know not how I can rejxint.
Knew 1 my crime, 1 would be glad.
And bear with peace my punishment,
Hut what 1 am, I know not the extent.
My min<l, I feel's a mighty wilderness,
A mass of something quite irregular.
Which sadness wisheth to compress ;
Kut o'er the world 'twill i^trelch afar,
Tho' alli^^ators fling their jaws ajar.
And snap their tusks in fell array,
lieyond yon moon, ay, and yon argol star,
Will fancy wing her sunward way,
And scorn the clouds that woukl befoul the day.
Shall savage man, with all his gold,
Be fit to clip the poet's wings,
Or turn his heart by freezing cold,
And cut its lenderest feeling strings ?
2i6 FYA FYK
Nay, he defies unmanly things,
In spite of fortune energy doth burn.
And genius, like a giant springs,
Tho' gloominess the brains may chum.
All what's not independent he doth spurn.
O ! happy he again would be,
To stroll along yon sunny shore,
Or by the glen and hawthorn tree.
Sweet nature's self but to adore.
But oh, how mad, how sick and sore.
The breast is too devoid of love ;
O ! would this withering gale blow o'er.
And let the rustic bard go rove.
Singing his song, and trusting in his God above.
How wavering is the human mind; full of changes.
Melancholy gives it strength ; all great minds have felt a
great deal of melancholy — ^from gloominess to gaiety how
swiftly it alters.
Hah, ha, this mom how merry's a
The tyke, he laughing barks,
The code ay now and than dis craw.
The lift's fii' o' cheery larks.
The pyet wags her tail fii* green.
Plays hap and charks awa.
Whiles on yon tammock she is seen.
Then Mi* the hoodicraw.
The de'il the haet dis gim and snarl.
And snuff wi' wrath and blaw.
For Jock's come back to the rural warl,
Gieing mony a loud gaffa.
Poets and poetry dumfounder me; let them get hence, and
the Fyaam d tJie auld Glen.
Fyabbles — Foibles ; foolish things.
FvACHLE — To work at any thing softly; to fyachie dawHy
to fall softly down. Fyac/iling^ moving about in a iilly
manner, and seeming to work at something in a feckless
way.
Fykes — Trivial troubles.
FvKES Fair — A singular fair, held annually at the Clau-
chan d Auchencaim ; it begins at ten d clock at night, con-
tinuing to the morning, and through part of the next day.
V
FYL GAL 217
All the drinkers, floriers, cutty glUrs^ and curious folks,
attend from all parts of Galloway ; and when so many
such characters are met, any one may conclude, what for
a fair it is ; that it is one of the most blackguard gatherings
in the south of Scotland.
Fyle — Make dirty.
*• Her face wad fyle the Logan wattr."— Burns.
G.
Ga'— GalL
Gab — The mout^ ; also to talk pertly.
Gabbie Labbie — Confused talking ; the way in which we
think foreigners talk when we know not their language.
Gabbit — Did talk.
Gaberlunzie — A wallet.
Gaberlunzie Man — A man who carries a wallet
Gaig — A rend or crack in flesh brought on with dry weather.
Gaislins — Young geese.
Gaistcoal — A coal, that when it is burned it becomes white.
They are more of a stone nature than coal.
Galdroch — A greedy, long-necked, ill-shaped person.
Gallbusses — ^A shrub which grows plentifully in wild moor-
land marshes. Its leaves are something like the willow,
but its scent is different from that of any other shrub. The
scent of it is extremely strong, and though it be cut, retains
its fiimes and freshness for many months. It is thought
to be able to extirpate insect vermin out of rooms. I
wonder something is not tried with this astonishing smelling
plant ; who knows but it is highly medical.
2i8 GAL GAN
Gallowa' — A large district or shire, ranging along the south ot
Scotland, anciently much larger than now, stretching, in the
days of yore, from the English border to the Irish Firth, a
distance of more than a hundredmiles. Its breadth has not
varied much, being naturally cut off, as it were, from the rest
of Scotland, by a range of wild bleak moors. This has con-
tinued much the same. It had its own kings once ; Galdus
or GaiderSy whose tomb and name yet exist in the country,
was one of them, and it is thought Galloway had its name
from him, which is not unlikely. Murray^ in his literary
account of the district, quotes various authorities resp)ecting
the name, and in this, shows considerable genius and re-
search, though, as to the true derivation, it yet remains
doubtful. The manners, customs, and language of the
peasantry differing widely from those belonging to the rest of
Scotland, I was induced to say something respecting them,
being fond of curiosity, and I have not confined myself to
the Galloway of modern days, but to the ancient Gailavadia,
Gailwallia, or Gailwegia, for doing which, if any thank me,
it is well, and if none do so, I have myself to thank, which I
do with boldness ; because, in saying what I have said,
I have felf great pleasure, so should t/uink myself that I
found out this little source of happiness ; and even had
those manners and what not, not differed so widely as they
do from their neighbours, still I would have said something
respecting them, not that I may know matters that the
world knows not, and perhaps cares little about, and not
that I like to hear myself talking, but just to show, that the
peasants, though an extremely modest race, have bred one
amongst them full of impudence.
(jAMf — An idle meddling person.
Gampin — Gaping, like an half-hanged dog.
Gang u' Water — The water that is brought from the well
at once.
GAN — : GAU 219
Gansh — To snap greedily at any thing, like a swine.
Gar — To cause, to make do.
Gardy-pick — An expression of great disgust
Gardy-vine — A large beautiful oblong-shaped glass bottle, used
for holding spirits. It is from the German, " a gin bottle."
Garten— Garter.
Gates — Goats. Gate-skin^ goat skin.
Gate-whey — The whey of goat's milk. People of consump-
tive habits drink it; so a draught of goat's whey, and
a week's recreation in the moors, are as much relished by
people living on sea-shores, as these latter places are to the
moorlanders.
Gatin-Corn — That bad plan of drying grain, by binding the
sheaves near the top, spreading them wide below, and setting
them on end singly They dry, to be sure, pretty soon, but
then they are loose, and wet as soon ; so, if it be variable
weather, they commonly are rotted useless.
Gaucy — ^Jolly, well-dressed and well-fed.
Gaun to a House — About forty or fifty years ago, visiting
in the country was a very serious matter; that is to say,
there was no such thing as kiniia ncebours going to see
how other were at their houses, unless there was some
urgent business in hand between the parties, and even if
there were, the visitor would seldom go into the house,
but execute his mission, or what not, on the green in the
open air ; for if he had, he would not have come out
again, if a young man, without having himself eind with
one of the daughters of that establishment, which being
done, marriage had to ensue. The natives waited for the
pair to be cried every Sabbath-day that came, in the kirk,
and if no proclamation took place, the fellow was badgered
and bantered about the girl where ever he went ; at shoot-
220 GAU GEO
i'ngSj kirns, prentiu-loosings^ &:c. The poor lassie would
never be matched to another ; so his soul would give way to
the foolish scandal and country dash afloat, and he would
enter the matrimonial estate to get clear of them ; thus,^a««
to a house, as it was called, proved to be a sad matter often,
if the lads and the lasses had not previously engaged other
at kirk'Stiles, or some such famous courting houfs or haunts.
Gaut — A male swine.
Gautsame — Hog's lard.
Gavle — Gable of a house.
Gawkie — ^A foolish girl.
Ged — The pike, the fresh water shark.
Gedwing — An ancient looking person ; an antiquary, and
fisher of geds.
Gee — ^A species of madness. " My wife she's ta'en the gee,"
as the auld sang goes. My wife has taken some mad fit, and
is almost unmanageable.
Geens — Wild cherries,
Gell — A rend, an open in any thing, such as in wood.
Gellock — An iron crow-bar for making " Gdls " or rends, use-
ful in quarrying stones.
Gellocks — Insects which haunt the "Gells" of rocks,
probably of the earwig species. It is lobster shaped,
about an inch long, of a black colour, inclosed in a hard
rind. They bite savage-like, and their bite is attended
always with a little poison.
Gemmle — A long-legged man.
Geordie Wushart — An eminent rustic bard, and one of
the most honest and social of men. He is chief salmon-
fisher on the Dee, but was bom and bred somewhere on
the Scottish border. In his ways all — he is quite an origi-
nal ; every motion of either his body or mind attests it. He
GEO GEO 221
can tell the most humorous tale without giving a single
smile with his countenance : he will have all around him in
a roar of laughter, and himself sitting the while as serious as
Socrates. — He is one of the most patient and contented men
on earth, nor is this happy temper annoyed by him having a
hell of a woman for a wife, as the unfortunate sage lately
mentioned had, for, on the contrary, she is a worthy and
amiable female.
As to his poetic talents, few there are who have the
pleasure of estimating them, as they have not yet been
fairly laid before the world's microscopic eye; but I
for one, have been honoured with a peep at his MSS. in
their present state, so am able to say what I think of
them, which, without the "decimal fraction of a doit's-
worth of flattery, I say they are extremely natural and
pleasant, and ought to have got a squeeze in the press
long ago." There is not much wildness and madness
about them ; they are simple and halesome, not unlike the
strain of Allan Ramsay.
His General Review and Eternal Almanack are indeed
superior to most rustic poems in my knowing. Their plots,
and the way in which they are handled, prove Geordy
to be a man of genius. He is not only a poet, but a
very clever mathematician, understanding Algebra well, and
can engrave beautiful sun-dials. I once sent him a
dial of rather a singular construction, when he thanked me
as follows : —
I gat the dial that ye sent,
It was ane handsome compliment,
And thanks are due on cent, per cent.
In gratitude frae Geordy.
I ne'er sa v ought like it afore,
I glowered at it owre and owre,
The farer I did it explore,
It gied mair joy to Geordy.
2 22 GEO GEO
O ! cud I write the vera best
That ever was in words express' t,
*Twas due to thee boon a* the rest
That ere sent ought to Geordy.
Hut, O, alas ! my muse is dull.
The pen is frail, and thick the scull,
Hut for the deecl ye'Il talc the wuU
Frae a well-wisher Geordy.
Though there may be rather too much sweet oil in these
thanks, yet any one of penetration may see they flow from
a tender and good heart. In truth, there is no man more
beloved by all who know him than Geordy. His honest face
brightens up every company he is in ; whether that company
be in the Hall d Barniewatery Auld Ned's Antichaniber^ or
St. Cuthberfs Mason Lodge. He is fond of shooting, and
in Galloway there is none can ii'ield a double barrlic so well
as Geordy. When the game springs, whether on foot or
wing, he takes a snuff deliberately, brings the gun quietly up
to his e'e, lets fly, and if he misses, it is a uwnder. But, to
give a further proof of his poetic powers, and firstly then, a
piece, entitled
THE THOW.
The bitter-biting frost now seems to fail.
And safter zephyrs wave the leafless trees.
How quick the thow dissolves the snaw and hail.
And sets the ice-bound waters at their ease.
Tlie chittering burdies, draigglin forlorn,
Now find their sustenance with easy care.
Nor do they come at e'ening and at mom
To touch the borders of the schoolboy's snare.
The wakcfu' lark, that by the early da^xTi,
\Vi' vocal notes doth warn the approach of day,
\Vhen that the flakcy snaw o'erspread the lawn,
Amaist became destructive Famine's prey.
Hut now the sun extends a warmer glance.
His cheering rays again doth gladness bring,
A' nature now enjoys unboundetl dance.
And welcomes back the sweet returning spring.
GEO GER 223
Again the Jinny tribe will glad the stream,
The artm* angler a' his wiles will try,
TTie cheerfu* ploughman whistling by the team,
His masters place will faithfully supply.
Rejoice, rejoice, a' nature at the sight,
Again the fields assume a verdant green,
Again the woolly flocks do take the height.
And lowing herds are in the vallies seen.
The above poem is tolerable, but had it been more
Scotchified, I would have liked it better; however, he
makes this up in his answer to a friend who sent him some
good snuff.
MACABAA.
Sir — I gat yer sang wi* the fine Macabaa,
For which I gie naething but thanks that arc sma\
To see sic a poet, andyhe/ there do kmnu it.
Why do ye conceal sic a talent ai'a ?
There s some silly asses wha dim up Parnassus,
And think there to shine on the poetic law^
But tmly I tell ye, few, few can excel 1 ye
In yer funny wee sang o' the rare Macabaa.
Your halesome advices sac canty and braw
About the drap whusky, the saul-case and a',
Ye surely are right, for by day and by night,
We sud keep frae the hizzies when tippling awa.
But now ae request I maun ask o' ye neist,
Altho* it be bmcking discretion's gude law,
Neist time ye gang north, by the Clyde or the P'orth,
^'e maun bring me a treat o' this same Macabaa.
I^ng life to yersell then, the mistress, and a'.
May happiness crown ye by Harmony's law ;
May your faes ay be few, and your friens ay cnew,
Until your last breath on this warl ye draw :
And through a' our lives, wi' our friens and our wives,
May temperance ay be the rule to us a*,
Wi' a wee drap o' Toddy to nourish the body.
And sometimes a teat o' the gude Macabaa.
J^are-thee-well then, my worthy Gcordy.
^ERROND the Poet — What a difference there is between
this bard, and the one just sketched. John Gerrond the
^(^(nv^ and George Wishart the sa^i^e. The first, an honour to
2 24 GER GER
the Muses, the other a disgrace. He was bred a blacksmith ;
went to America ; drank and frolicked in the world beymd
the flood ; came back again, tilting over the white iop'd
surges of the Gulf of Florida, to use his own language, then
published at various times stuff he termed poems ; shameless
trash, appearing as if they had been dug out of the lovely
bosom of an Assmidding.
For all there is much about him deserving my attention.
Some genuine madness, vanity, and folly ; and I will dare to
say, that if he had had ten times more industry than what he
has, he would have wrote some tolerable verses, as his madness
is ratherly that of a poet's. In truth, his ^ed Lion Frolic is
as fine a specimen of gowishness as I have seen. He says
he is the first of Vulcan's sons who strives to climb the
sliddery brae, and that as music was first produced by striking
on an anvil, he expects that even something greater yet may
be produced in a smiddy, and that nothing ever came firom
those whose ears hear little but the chirping of the yam-beam.
Indeed, was not the tender Tannahill a weaver; j)oor
Gerrond, I won't hurt thee, thou hast been injured much
already by the destiny of thy stars ; for Bums, you say, was
very lucky in appearing at the time he did. He got just the
start of you by a few years, and took up all those subjects
which was befitting your muse : just so ; but if he had never
wrote, neither would ye have done so, nor ever have thought
that Halloiveen and the Holyfair were frolics that a poet
could make exist to eternity ; so Gerrond is a strange
creature, and perhaps there never was any being moved
about more independent than he in clogs and a ruffled sark,
for which he has my highest praise ; for poverty, in all its
shapes, he values nothing. Give him a glass or two of
whisky, and he would not call the king his cousin ; and
no one deserves a glass more than he, for he both loves it
dearly, and will give thanks for it either in clink or other-
GER GIE 225
ways. The Peatmoss is his longest poem, beginning
with
" Some delight to sing o' battle,
** Whether victory or loss ;
** But whoever owre a bottle
** Sang the scenes o' a Peatmoss."
While ranging for subscribers once through the country,
a priest was so impudent as to tell him he was no poet
" Don't you think (returned our hero), that the Almighty is
as potent now as he was in the days of old?" Surely,
(replied the priest) "Wi than (quoth Gerrond), he has
opened the mouth of another ass to-day, methinks." This
retort was not so far amiss ; on the whole, he is a harmless
soul, and reels about like a true poet, contented, in rags,
and commonly as fow as the Baltic. It is far from me to
discourage the efforts of genius ; I am quite on the side of
a young poet, if I have any penetration to see he is on the
right side d the dyke ; but, hoh, ho, Gerrond was never there,
and is too old now to speil over. Merit will work its
way, under a million disadvantages, to the Temple of Fame ;
nothing else will do. But oh !
** Ilk clauchans pang'd wi' gcafish bards,
** The de'il a mailins free o* them ;
** Tie their bladders to their tails,
*' And owre the brig o' Dee wi' them."
Auld Gallaiuay song,
GiBB Cats — Male cats.
GiE — To pry.
GiEAN Carlins — A set of carlins common in the days away,
but now so much unknown, that account of them is almost
lost They were of a prying nature, and if they had found
any one alone on Auld Halloween, they would have stuffed
it with " beerawns and butter"
GiEiNG UP THE Names — The ceremony attending the giving
in to the Precentor the names of those to be cried or pro-
226 GIE GIL
claimed to church congregations, previous to marriage; so
that any who wish to object to such and such matrimonial
concerns going forward, may do so; they have then the
power to fling down sixpence, and protest against proceedings
going farther, a thing seldom done. Though they be cried
three times, if the three cryings be put all past on one day, as
is now commonly the case, the Precentor's loof rawst be better
creeched than if he took three separate days to it, which is
the strict point of church law. Those names are generally
given in on a Saturday night. The parties meet in a pub-
lic house ; no females attend ; the father or brother of tbe
bride is her representative ; the bridegroom is present, and
his best many on the Precentor being called in to the meeting
(a business he generally likes, as he gets plenty both to eat
and drink for nothing), the names are wrote down on a slip
of paper ; the bride's name by one of her relations present,
and the bridegroom's by his man; after this is done, the
bowzing goes merrily on; the whisky pimch dashes about
like dishwater ; all present get fuddled, and the Precentor
worst of all, 2&fouf as a witch.
Such is iht fourth bout, in the regular routine of a proper
matrimonial transaction ; first taking the notion ; secondly,
courting ; thirdly, getting consent of the auld folks ^ and buy-
ing the braws ; and fourthly, gieing up the names ; then
comes the crying, the wedding, the kirking, and lastly the
taking up house,
GiEZiE — A person fond of prying into matters which concerns
him nothing.
Gift o* Gab — Having power to gabble.
Gill — This word comes from the same root as gelL It is, as
it were, a small rend in the earth ; a little glen, through
which runs a brook. A gill^ a glen, sl cleugh^ and a
haugh are all of the same family, but differing in magni-
GIL GIL 227
tude, all excavations of this planet caused by the running of
water.
GrLL — ^A leech. This word, and "^//" are one, for the
leech is a creature that makes ^^ geils'' in the flesh. The
word gellj I am not sure whether it is of Norman or Erse
extniction ; I am inclined to think the latter. If cream be
rubbed on those parts of the body where leeches are to
be put, they will take hold sooner than without it. The
bite of a leech is poisonous when newly taken out of its
native place : they should be kept some time before used ;
the water they are put in should be changed every day,
and that water should be much of the nature of their native
water, of an half putrid nature, for it is on the viewless
animals of this water they live. Spring water is death
to them, and they should have, if possible, fresh air. A
bottle is not a good thing to keep them in ; it should be
a wider vessel, with a lid holed like a sieve.
The wound they make is of a singular shape, something
like the letter Y; three legs striking off from a centre, having
the angle of sixty degrees between them. Nature, thou art
a wonderful mathematician ; what wound would answer so
well as one of this form, both for letting out blood, and
healing soon. Like the bees, with their hexagonal combs,
no other solid would answer them so well. Leeches deserve
attention ; when we wish them to vomit, nothing but their
mouths should touch the salt.
GiLiXJATHERERS — People who gather leeches in the marshes.
These are commonly old women; they wade about with
their coats kilted high; the vampires lay hold of them
by the legs, when the gill-gatherers take them off, and
bottle them up. These persons have commonly a long
stick, called a gill-rung^ with them. When they come
to a deep hole, they plunge in it with this, and start the
leeches, singing a strange song at the same time to the
228 GIL GIL
rouses of the pole. Annexed to this, is Maily Mtsdin^ the
gill^vMs one : —
Gilly, gilly, gilly,
Come and sook thy filly :
Hear'st thou Mally plunging
\Vi' the rung a runging ?
Bubbles up are boiling,
Am kirning and am toiling ;
Ye dinna hear my swashes,
For blue seag- roots and rashes ;
My gilly, strii>ed gilly,
Come and sook thy nlly.
Let me see ye wimple.
And make the water dimple ;
Start now frae the boddum,
Tho' it I canna fadom :
Come and see thy Mally,
The body's living brawly ;
Tho* warroching in mires,
Puir Mally never tires ;
Come awa, my gilly.
And sook thy fiUy, filly.
My under-cotie*s hie now,
Gif ony bodies see now,
The water's boon my knee now,
Aye faith, aboon mid thee, now
Amang my yallow spawlies.
There ye come and crawlies ;
Bonny s the moss lilly,
But bonnier far my gilly :
Now thou sticks, my gilly,
Sook thy filly, filly.
GiLL-HA*s — Snug little thatched huts erected in guls^ or
small glens. These are often, in Galloway, and other
places, the birth-places of genius. Out of these issue
young men, whiles excellent at climbing the slippery
Mount Parnassus. The Ettrick Shepherd was doubtless
bom in a gill-ha*. They are the famous archives for
legendary tales; there are the cream of the milk of ages;
the food of pleasure.
Gill-pies — Young tight girls, looking out for husbands.
GiLL-RONNiES — Glcns fuU of bushes, haunts of poets, and
people a sproging; sweet rural solitudes.
GIL GIN 229
GiLL-TOWALS — ^The horse-leeches. These leeches are of no
use to man, as the others are ; they won't bite when wished.
The country people, however, think otherways, and would
not allow one of them to be " laid to " for a good deal, as
report goes ; that if they be " laid to,'^ they won't, like the
others, " fall off," but continue sucking so long as they can
get a drop of blood, while the life-stream flows out of their
nether etid^ whence the name " Toiuals^^ or tails, leeches at
either end.
GiLLY-OAWKiE — A long-made and rompish girl.
GiLLY-OAWPOCK — Nearly the same as above, only the other
is, or was, the name of a farm once in Galloway. ** Gaping
glens " may be about the English of it
GiNNERS — The gills of a fish. " I gaed my way on tae saun
the ither day, and raised a pickle bait (quoth the celebrated
John M'Clellan), and wad awa, and try the fishing. The
wun was aff the Ian', so I thought I might get a cod or twa
about the Laird's Pointy or aff the Redcraigy but I had na
row'd the boat to the * witch wiv^s haen^ whan the wun cam
ahead, and I was obliged to bring her to aff the Oyster Craig,
Weel, there I sat, and gat naething but plenty o' wee
* bleuchens,' but owre i' the afternoon, just as I was thinking on
starting for hame, I fin' an awfu' tugging at the line, owre the
scullrow; my coat I flang aff, the better to manage the
meikle fish, drew the * dart click ' to me, to double huik him,
whan I brought him near the tap o' the water. Sae up I
brought him slowly, the biggest fluik ever I saw ; nae com-
mon pan wad hae ta'en him in at hauf a dizzen times. I
brought him safely intae boat ; he had swallowed the bait
greedily, the huik was sticking in his * ginners,^ I took out
ray knife, ripped up his un'er-jaw, to get back the huik ; but
just as I lifted him, to fling aft a bit, lord ! he gaed a de'il's
wallop, slipped out o* my han', and o'er the gunnel o' the
230 GIR GLE
boat again intae water. I let dive after him wi' my arms to
the oxters, but he slided awa. O ! I was vexed ; I drew up
the penter, gaed awa ashore to Meg wi' the tear in my eye.
Sinsyne, I hae thought it was na a fleuk, but some watch in
the shape o* ane, may be, Eppie Hanna; gif that be sae, she
has sair ginners the day, be she whar she wull.
Gird — A hoop, a blow.
Girds o' the Wun — Blasts of the storm.
GiRNELL — A box or barrel for holding oatmeal
GiRSE — Grass.
GiRSE-GAWD — Cut by grass. Those who run bare-foot, as
" herds " do, know well what these cuts are.
GiRSLE — A gristle.
GiRZY or Grizzle — Name for Grace.
Glakes — Playthings for children.
Glaumer — Witchery, the black art. Man can do nothing
supernatural, yet he has powers to make some of his weaker
brethren think he can. Man can invent singular things, and
so bemistify them, that others may gape and wonder ; but
there is no genuine glaumer about him, nor there is no
glaumer at the present day in existence, unless the eyes of
fair females contain a little.
Glaums — Instruments used by horse-gelders, when gelding.
Glaur — Soft mire or moss.
Gleboring — Talking carelessly.
Gledge — To hang about thief-like.
Gled*s-claws — We say of anything that has got into greedy
keeping, that it has got into the gkd's claws, where it will be
kept until it be savagely devoured.
Gleed — A comfortable little fire; w^hen the embers of^e gieed
are stirred, and a blue flame appears, it betokens bad
weather.
GLE GLE 231
Gled's-nests — Nests of the kite. These are common in
moorland glens : they build there on what the shepherds
call scurrie thorns^ low dwarfish thorns ; and these nests,
when young gleds are in them, are kept well filled with
mice and moles, which proves that this bird not only preys
on animals of its own tribe, but on quadrupeds. It is a greedy
bird, the kite, and extremely useless in bearing up against
the rudeness of winter ; one would think, that when the
frost and snow reduced the little birds to a sad forlorn
state, that those of prey would then be feasting. This is
not so, though ; a mark of the wisdom of Providence : cold
sets upon the prowling vagabonds in a manner that naturalists
have not found out \ for, frequently in winter, they not only
want strength of wing to catch their prey, but can neither
kill nor eat it when it is catched, as I have often seen proved.
" The tod's a beast no easy fed,
** Lykewise the burd they ca' the gled,
** The wasp, the speedard, and the ged
"Are greedy curses ;
** And factor Jock is damn'd ill-bred
** Wi' our light purses."
Auld poem of the Rent Day.
Gled's-VVhussle — Kites, when they fall in with prey, give
a kind of wild whistling scream. We apply this, meta-
phorically, to the ways of men, in the phrase, " It's no for
nought the gled-whussles : " meaning, it is not for nothing
that greedy men whistle ; it is the good fee makes the lawyer
whistie.
<}led Wvlie — The name of a singular game played at
country schools. One of the largest of the boys steals
away from his comrades, in an angry like mood, to some
dyke^ide or sequestered nuik^ and there begins to work as
if putting a pot on a fire. I'he others seem alarmed at his
232 GLE GLE
manner, and gather round him, when the following dialogue
takes place : —
They say first to him,
What are ye for wi' the pot, gudeman ?
Say what are ye for wi* the pot ?
We dinna like to see ye, gudeman,
Sae thrang about this spot.
We dinna like ye ava, gudeman.
We dinna like ye ava,
Are ye gaun to grow a gled, gudeman ?
And our necks draw and thraw ?
He answers,
Your minnie burdies ye maun lae,
Ten to my nocket I maun hae,
Ten to my e'enshanks, and or I gae lye.
In my wame I'll lay twa dizzen o* ye by.
The mother of them, as it were, returns,
Try't than, try*t than, do what ye can.
Maybe ye maun toomer sleep the night, gudeman ;
Try't than, try't than, Gled-wylie frae the heugh.
Am no sae saft, Gled-wylie, ye'll fin' me bauld and teugh.
After these rhymes are said, the chickens cling to the
mother all in a string. She fronts the flock, and does all she
can to keep the kite from her brood ; but often he breaks
the row, and catches his prey. Such is the sport of GUd-
wylie,
Glenkens— A glen amongst rocks. This is the laigest
and wildest glen in Galloway, extending into many
parishes. In the heart of it is the Loch o^ Ken^ a lovely
lake, Neufgallmvay Ciauchan, and the ancient seat of the
Gordons of Kenmore, It is a most romantic place : it was
on his way through it (in riding from Dumfries to GaU-
house), that Burns composed the chief of national songs,
" Scots wha hae wV Wallace bled" He did this during a
storm of rain ; the storm, and the wild situation in which
it catched the poet, must have aided those uncommon
OLE GOI 233
manly breathings of the song to burst forth. He was
accompanied in his journey by his friend, Mr, SimSy who
wrote out the story. Galloway, then, must have some
share in the honour of giving birth to the famous effusion,
and a small share even, is surely a great honour.
Glent — To gleam suddenly, or a sudden gleam of light
Glibb — Quick, sharp, more so than needful. A person too
quick, as it were, for the world, or "e//^^," is generally
disliked.
Glibbans — A glibb person.
Gliff — A transient view of any thing.
Glisk — ^A glimpse of light. A little light flung suddenly on a
dark object Gliff is the short view ; glisk, the little light
which gave the short view.
Glitt — Oily matter, which makes the stones of brooks slippery
in summer.
Glocken — A start from a fright.
Gloit — A soft delicate person.
Gloss — A comfortable little fire of embers.
Glumf — ^A sulky fool.
Glunch — ^To look sulky.
Glundv — ^A fellow with a sulky look, but not sulky for
all : one who deceives by appearances ) also a plough-
ridder.
Glunner — An ignorant sour-tempered fellow.
Glutted — Swallowed.
Glving — Looking with one eye.
Goave — To gaze with fear.
Goits — ^Young birds unplumed.
234 GOM GOU
GoMF — ^A fool, or one who wishes to seem so.
GoMRELL — The same as above.
GoNKED — Cheated.
GooL — ^The seed of wild herbs. That seed which is taken out
amongst com.
GoosETS — Pieces of cloth set in at certain angular points
of clothing, so that they may better befit the body. Little
out-lets, as it were, well known to the sewers of white-seam,
GoRBLE — To eat ravenously.
GoRDED LozENS — Panes of window-glass, in the time of frost,
are so termed. What beautiful objects like trees do there
appear in the frigid season.
GoRLiN-HAiR — ^The first hair which grows on body or
beast That hair on young birds before the feathers
cometh.
GoRLiNS or GoRBs — Young birds.
GoRROCH — To mix and spoil porridge, or such food.
Goth — An exclamation, and a bad one, for it is no less than a
molification of the sacred word God; goth man, goth ay,
goth this, and goth that, are by far too common sayings;
many are led to prologue their words by them, who know
not the meaning of the language they are using; let all
desist from tampering with this word in the time to come ;
let goth become obsolete, so will we be respecting the name
of our Almighty Creator ; also, let haith, which is used for
faith, sink to oblivion.
Gou — A bad taste or smell.
GouRLiNs — The black bulbous roots of an herb with a white
bushy flower, good to eat, called Hornecks in some parts of
Scotland.
GOW GOW 235
Gow — A name for a fool.
GowDiE — Mr. John Goldie, a young gentleman, for some time
editor of the " Ayr and Wigtonshire Courier," born and bred
in Ayrshire, but being the manager of this newspaper, and it
having ado with part of Galloway, of course it behoves me to
take notice of him. And I do this with much pleasure, for
why, I consider my friend very worthy of it, he is a poet^ that's
enough ; yes, and a poet too, agreeable to my taste, as also
I should think of every peasant in Scotland ; and I would
much rather be a bard that could kittle up the feelings of the
country folks, than one who was a favourite at court ; but
the truth is, a peasant's poet is also a prince's, for who are
not moved with the mellow voice of nature ? it thrills through
the breast enstarred, as quick as through that covered with
the comer of a plaid; it works its way to the heart, be
that heart in what situation it may. Mr. Goldie has cer-
tainly much of the right ore about him, ready to be brought
forth, and (without much amalgamation with other metals),
stampt in that mint, which issues out the genuine coin
that endures for ages. Lately he published a volume of
sweet little pieces, some of them reminded me not a little
of the strain of Tom Moore. He is the author of that
song which took such a hold of the stage in the days of
dandyism, and partly helped to bring these toy-shop gentry
into ridicule ; it begins with, as many know.
There's the wealthy widow Watt,
She's as ugly as her cat,
She's toothless, dull of hearing, crooked and bandy O !
Tho' her skin's as dark as my hat.
Yet her cash can cover that,
For the cash you know's the thing that's for the dandy O.
When editor of the newspaper, he was the means of bring-
ing many a gem out of the gulf of oblivion ; he lent not a
deaf ear to the whisperings of Genius, but freely gave the
goddess a corner whenever he heard her voice. He was one of
236 GOW GOW
the chief instruments by which was completed with so much
eclat on the banks d bonny Doon, a monument to the me-
mory of Bums, or ratherly a land-mark to guide the pilgrim
in after ages to the venerable Kirk Allowa ; as also the one
who constituted an Ayr Burni Club, to commemorate the
anniversary of the bard in his native town ; on the whole, this
gentleman's conduct has not been unlike that of Mr.
M*Diarmid's, Dumfries, to be afterwards spoken of: he has
the love of mankind and literature at heart ; is like myself
now driving away in London, so God speed the wark^ and
ever sing "success to the cause." I may here treat my
readers to an effusion of his muse, never before in print : —
THE FOUNDLING.
When sick or wae, the puir man's wean
Kens that a mither's smile is sweet.
The joyless orphan left alane,
Aboon a father's grave can greet ;
Sic bless alake is no for me.
For ne'er has't been my lot to prove
How sweet's the blink o' mither's e'e.
How warm the glow o' father's love.
My birth-night saw me at yon door,
The cauld, cauld yird my cradle's place,
And Winter's snaws were drift in o'er,
My sichtless e'en an tender fiice ;
December's blasts were blawin chill,
An cauld an nippin was the air —
The mither's heart was caulder still,
That laid her sinless baby there.
The han' that fed and cled was kin'.
An aye sail be richt dear to me.
But warmer luve I fain wad ken,
Than warmest gratitude can be ;
A mither's luve I fain wad share,
For oh ! this heart to love was made —
Wad hear a father's e'enin prayer,
Ca' Heaven's blessins on my head.
When join'd wi' younkers in their play,
I whiles forget a mither's wrang.
But when the weet or closin' day.
Gars ilka playmate hameward gang ;
GOW GOW 237
O ! then I fin my bosom swell,
Wi' feelings that it lang has nurst,
And yearn a parent's love to feel,
TiU whiles I think my heart will burst.
When seated by the ingle side,
Some neighbour's blythsome weans I see,
While luiks that speak a father's pride.
Are beamin frae their father's e e ;
I strive to chock the burstin sigh.
And dicht awa the bumin tear.
Syne luik upon yon gouden sky.
An houp I hae a' Hither there.
Mr. Goldie has a half brother, a sailor, now settled in South
America, who seems, by what I have seen of his MSS., to
have very much of the rustic poet about him, and as he
is strikingly original, I cannot refrain from giving a few
verses also of his —
•* A tar I am, proud o* the name,
" And a head fii' hie can carry O !
"I've conquering fought, and will again,
** Or I loss my Charming Mary O ! "
"I've cross'd the wide Atlantic sea,
** And been in regions dreary O !
" But a bonnier lass I never saw,
** Than my lovely Iru-ine Mary O ! "
Again, behold the man of genius in another strain.
" I left Paisley about i p.m. with my little frigate in
tow, — stood through the moor, — reached Neilston at half
past two, — the weather squally, with some rain. Brought
to, at the Black Bull, got some grog for myself and
storeships ; breeze freshens; fell in with a strange sail, on
the homeward-bound passage ; stood on for Stewarton,
under a press of canvas, wind S.S.W., took a ship in
distress in tow; ran on for Killmaur fore land, parted
convoy, dropped anchor with my girl for the night, though
still in good sailing trim."
But my favourite piece of this poet's is his " Elegy on
Robbin Smith," a wandering botanist; here his rusticity.
238 GOW GOW
indeed, refreshes me; the following verses are a speci-
men : —
Mourn, mourn, ilk svmpatheezing frien.
Let sorrow's tears fa frae your e^n,
The queerest shaver e*er was seen,
1*11 tak my aith ;
Lies in below that sod sae green.
Poor Robbin Smith.
ITie hauf o* terra firma owre.
He trod in quest o* yirb and flower.
Through ilka glen and wud he'd cour.
And by-way path ;
But death at last led to his bower
Poor Robbin Smith.
Whan father Addie was the laird,
O* Eden's ance delightfu' yard.
He delved awa — and never cared.
Nor dreaded skaith ;
Weel, every plant that e'er he rear'd,
Kend Robbin Smith.
He wi* great skill too, cud explain.
What brought the snaw, and what the rain,
The sun, and moon too, he made plain.
War warls baith ;
Our ancient dads war a' mistaen.
Quoth Robbin Smith.
'Bout every fish, and every shell.
In sea, or river, he cud tell.
E'en frae a beardoc to a whale ;
Nor was he laith,
To learn puir doaflies like mysell.
Kind Robbin Smith.
The mawbag o' a butterflee,
Weel dried and stuff 'd, ahame had he.
The baw too, o' a midges e'e,
Its dirk and sheath ;
Wi' belts o' mony a queer bumbee
Had Robbin Smith.
And strings on strings o' seddar's eggs,
Wi' mony a creature stuck on pegs.
The skin o' beetles, flees, and clegs,
Blawn up wi' pith ;
But hoh anee I dung af his legs,
Is Robbin Smith.
GOW GOVV 239
The roons had he o* Eve*s first sark,
A snuff box made o* Noah's Ark,
The stane king Davie did the wark,
O' Gulliea Gath ;
The knife too, whilk slew Mungo Park,
Had Robbin Smith.
Amang the lassies whiles he ran,
And gard them sometimes coup the cran,
Forgie ye hizzies gif ye can.
He's tint his breath ;
]\ist/rai/fy like anither man,
Was Robbin Smith.
Ye bretheren o* the rake and dibble,
O ! let your e'en a twalmonth dribble,
Weel may ye greet and yum and bibble.
And flee in wrath
At death for withering like a stibble,
Puir Robbin Smith, &c., &c.
Such a Poem is not amiss ; I am in love with the Poet, and
intend, some day or other, to publish his works, which I
have beside me ; I am going to write to him, in America ;
such a genius should not be kicked to a comer.
Gowk-spittles — A white frothy matter, common on the
leaves of plants about the latter end of the summer, and
beginning of autumn ; in the interior of these spittles, a little
insect is always found, some say a young c/eg, or gad-fly, and
that it lives on this froth until it be strong enough to hop
elsewhere ; these spittles are said to be the gowks or cuckow's,
as at that season they are in the greatest plenty ; this bird
gets hoarse, or seems, by its voice, to have a clocher or
spittle in its throat, ready to void; but the truth is, this
matter is the production of some insect, and perhaps for the
purpose already spoken of.
GowL — A sharp howl.
GowPEN — The cavity two hands can make when their sides
are laid together ; or the quantity of anything that cavity
can hold : the double of a " nei/t^J'
GowsTED — Boasted.
240 GRA GRA
Grabs — Little prizes.
Gramashes — Overall hoze, to ride with.
Grannie — Grandmother. These old women are always fond
of giving advices to the rising generation ; what follows, is a
specimen of this : —
Howt's Bauldy my boy, ye're gaun a* to devil,
But harken your grannie a minute or twa,
Puir body, she wishes ye*d learn to be civil.
And no fling your health and your sillxu* awa.
This rinning at night, Bauldy, which ye delight in,
And baiming the hizzies wharever ye gang.
Is vile wark I true, and weel worthy the righting.
Believe me ye waur yoursell unco far wrang.
Come marry thy Maggie wha liv'd wi* the Millar,
And sifted the meal that was grun at the mill,
Wi' her ye'll fine pleasure in wauring your sillar.
And get, man, o' a war'ly comforts thy filL
Than I shall bequeeth thee my five hunner marks man
And gie thee a shielling to bid in and a\
She'll mak a' thy claise, and synn a' thy sarks man,
For thou canna do, but a wifhe ava.
Grannie Moil — A very old, flattering, false woman.
Grassmeal — The grass that will keep a cow for a season.
Grassnail — A long piece of hooked iron, which has one end
fixed to the blade of a scythe, and the other to the scythe's
handle ; so that (as mowers say), " her runt may sleep
steady i' the ^fen"
Graulse — A young salmon.
Gray Beardie — ^A bottle of the larger class, made of
earthenware ; it is made to hold generally about three
gallons, but whiles they have double lugs, and hold a much
larger quantity ; the w husky pig, in farm houses, is a pig
of this kind : " hae ye ought i* the pig the day ? " is a com-
mon salutation, when friendly neighbours meet at others
houses ; and although whisky be not mentioned, it is well
understood to be the thing wanted; answers to salute are
GRA GRI 241
various, such as, " I dare say there is a dreeping" — " Ay,
I heard the gude wife say it could pinkie pankle^^ &c
Gray-heads — Heads of gray-coloured oats, growing among
others that are not
Gray Stanes — Here and there, over all the face of the
country, round gray stones make their appearance; there
are two things which strike us strongly on looking at this
scene, " what brought them there," and " what made them of
a globular form ; " that cause which brought them to their
present situations, also, has been the cause of rounding
them ; it is evident from these stanes alone, that some awful
revolution has taken place at some distant period, on the
earth, and this revolution has been a tremendous flood of
water.
Greddon — The remains of fuel, the sweeping out of the
peatclaig ; the same with cooin^ almost, only the first brings
the idea, that stones and earth are among the remains,
the second not.
Green Linty — The green linnet. This is a beautiful bird,
easily tamed, but it can sing none.
Greeshochs — Fires of embers ; a greeshoch is much the same
with glecd and gloss.
Grier o' Lagg — Grierson, laird of Lagg, in the parish of Dun-
score I believe, anciently, the infamous persecutor of the
stem and worthy covenanters, the accomplice of the base
Claverhouse, and one of the most infernal villains Scotland
ever gave birth to ; not a church-yard do we go into through-
out all the land of Galloway, but we meet with stones, perhaps
cleared of their fog by Auld Mortality ^ testimonies to the in-
human fact ; there we think we hear the poor martyrs speak-
ing from their graves, and informing us how they were
butchered by the bloody Grier d Lagg ; the heart melts with
the detail of their fate, and we feel ready to revenge the
242 GRI GRl
cause, were that not done for us already ; even on our wild
moors, and in our dark glens, we trace the fell tract of the
savage. The tower yet remains in a partly ruined state,
where he lived when at home, it is a small square keep full of
loop-holes ; when the venerable old man, J^ohn Bell, of IVhiU-
side, begged of Grierson a little while to pray, before he was
shot, the murderer replied — "WTiat, devil, have ye been
doing, have ye not prayed enough these many years in the
hills ?'* was there ever a colder, and more unholy expression?
Poor John was slain in the parish of Tongueland, February,
1685. ."Robert Grierson, of Lagghall, was a persecutor for
upwards of ten years, and though excommunicated for being
an adulterer, and every thing bad, impertinently obstinate he
keeped still being Justice of the Peace." When he was dying,
tradition says, that he made a wish to have his feet bathed in
cold water, but the moment they were immersed, they made
it fizZy and boil wi^ hellish heat ; indeed, to this day, the
horrid word hell, is ever coupled with his name ; the country
people say sometimes, when enforcing a fact, " that they are
as sure such and such is the case, as they are of the laird 0*
Lagg's being in hell," and about the time of his death, which
happened in 1700, a ship at sea met with a singular
sail, a chariot dra^n by six horses, and conducted by three
drivers, all of the Pandemonium stamp, coming plunging
and snoring over the wild waves, attended by black clouds,
vomiting forth thunder and lightning. The sailors hailed,
7uhere bound, when the answer received was, from Hell to
Colinn, This was the vehicle sent to bring Lagg to the land
of Demons.
When his bodily remains were a taking to the kirkyard
for burial, the horses employed in that service seemed to
be much fatigued, and at a certain place on the road they
stuck up altogether, could go no farther, and appeared
ready to perish ; a gentleman present sent home for four
of the strongest horses in his stud, yoked them in to the
GRI GUD 243
dead carr, they drew it, indeed, to the place required,
but the poor animals were so forfoughten out with the
job, that they could do nothing afterwards while they
lived; — so much then, for Grier 0* Lagg ; those wishing
to know more of him, may consult the Cloud of Witnesses^
a good book, and those bunches of tales in prose and rhyme,
which help to bound out the wallet of every ballad hawker
in Scotland. *
Grinning Hares — The devilish art of setting gins in holes of
dykes, or on walks, to hang hares ; this is the meanest way
of all poaching, there is no sport with it, being purely for
gain, and truly savage.
Grist — The texture of yams; also, a miller's fee for
grinding. The phrase, " he has got anither grist to his mill
now," means, he has got another way of making a liveli-
hood.
Groozle — To breathe uneasily.
Grouf — To sleep restlessly.
Grue^ — To nauseate.
Gruesome — Frightful, but that kind of fright which brings on
vomiting.
Gruff — A short, thick, well-dressed man.
Grulch— A fat child.
Grull — A stone bruised to dust
Grullion — A mixture of various food ; a hotch podge.
Grun — Ground, a farm ; also, any thing grinded.
Gruns — Sediment of any liquid matter.
Grupping — A disorder amongst sheep ; it grips them in the
neck, as it were, rendering them unfit to turn their head but
one way.
Grushie — Fat, flabby, &c.
GuDDLE — To botch with a knife, to cut rudely.
244 GUD GUI)
GuDE Father — Father-in-law.
(JuDE MiTHER — Good mothei.
(iuDE Man — The master of the house.
The Gallovidian way of the old Scotch Song,
THERE'S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE.
Thfr^s nae luck about tfu hause^
There's nac luck ava^
IVhat luck can be about the house,
IVhen otir gude tnaiCs awa ? — Chorus.
There's no an hour in a' the day,
But something gaes athraw,
The servants a' arc masters grown,
And nought is done ava ;
The cauves brak through the milking slap,
Their minnies' pawps they draw.
The de'il a kebbuck now I get,
Or ought tae kirn axu —
There's nac hick, &c.
The tinklers they come up the gate,
To thieve and gie ill jaw.
Whan there's no a Ixxly i' the house,
To fley the de'ils awa ;
The sheep grow mawket on the hill.
And sair themsells they claw,
And whan their hips are no laid Ijarc,
\Vi' faith they dec awa —
There's nac luck, &c.
The baimies winna gang tae school,
lliey trone it ane and a'.
What care they for the Dominie,
W^han our gude man's awa ?
The drovers they come smackin roun,
And 'bout their stots they bla.
But what ken I alx)ut yell nowt,
Whan our gude man's awa ? —
There's nae luck, t\:c.
The tod comes scoolin' frae the cleuch,
And snaps the laggies a'.
For the terriers they winna hunt.
Whan our gude man's awa ;
The fire claucht the raunle tree,
And brunt the lum and a',
For what had 1 to sloken them,
W^han Archie was awa ? —
There's nae luck, &c.
GUL GUN 245
O ! gin he war back again,
'Twill be a month or twa,
Or his dear spouse will condescend,
To let him gang awa ;
For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck ava,
Na the fynt a luck's about the house,
Whan our gtaU man*s awa —
O, there's no luck, &c.
GuLDER — To rave like a domineer, or angry turkey cock ; to
tyrannize.
GuLDiE — A tall, black faced, gloomy looking man.
GuLLiON — A stinking, rotten marsh.
Gumption — Wisdom, genius, &c.
GuMPiNG — A piece cut off the giimp, or whole of any thing ;
when a banwun of reapers are kemping up a !an\ the weak of
course fall behind the stronger, and when a shift d n'ggs
takes place, those forward cut through their weak neighbours
riggy behind, duly opposite the place they left their own,
so leave a part of that rigg uncut, between them and
the weak reaper ; this piece is called the gumping. Two
crannies y or a lad and lass in love, never cut the gumping
on one another, the cause for why, needs no explana-
tion.
GuNPOWTHER — A well known combustible matter, pro-
perly named gunpowder; an original poem I give here
respecting it, which my readers may relish as they think
proper :
Gunpowther, thou's a won'erous thing,
Weelwordy that a bard should sing,
A sturdy sang on thee ;
Some bard o* genius pang'd wi' might,
Weel up to art and nature's slight,
And no a gow like me.
For true it is the haums o' man,
Hae ne'er made ought to match ye.
As a strong tool, for death's snell han',
Damnation wha did hatch thee —
In hell man, lie still man.
We dinna want your name,
Gae row there, i'e lowc there,
Infernal is thy fame.
246 GUN GUN
For you to sit and plot wi' death,
How best to tak your brither's breath.
What sin was ought like this ;
Auld Shanks was fit enough himsell,
For forming plots to nip us snell,
Thout adding your's to his —
Your stour combustible and quick,
The sad black chymic nitre,
Made frae the hauf brunt shunner stick.
The sulphur and sautpetre —
Invention — to mention.
It gars the flesh to grue,
For, o ! man, what foe man,
To us has been like you.
Tlie ancient arrows, darts, and slings.
To muskets be but harmless things,
And cannon fu* o' grape ;
Af nae brass shields the balls will bounce,
They come wi' a determined whunce,
E'in on their course they shaix:.
Through beef and bane, and wud and stane.
Without a howst they whunner.
While roun* the air dis rift and granc,
Wi* artiflcial thunner —
The auld wars — war bauld wars.
Whan man wi' man cud fight.
But now faith, we vow faith,
'Tis murder a' downright.
For now a feckless wabstcr chap.
Or far spent blackguard wi' the clap.
Can bravely draw the tricker :
And reel a fae down on the fiel'.
As fast's a strong-baned raekless cheel.
And some will say e'en quicker.
Sae scalbert bodies limping spruce.
And scurrs belike the gallows.
Suit war as weel as Kobbin Bruce,
Or glorious Wullie Wallace-
No w Strang men — and hangmen,
And dukes are a* the same,
A wight now, o' might now,
By powther gains nae fame.
And now the castles ane and a'.
Our fathers thought wad never fa'
In junrells are dung down ;
'Twas powther caused them first to wag.
As they sat on the towering craig,
And glowered a' aroun'.
GUN GUN 247
Mons Maggie's balls are battering rams
Which hae the hardy crooms,
They dunch down strengths like wiggiewams,
And homie wa*s roun towns —
They crash them, they smash them.
And gar their gates to flee,
While roareth, and snoreth,
The mad artilliree.
E'en on the sea as at the Nile,
Whan Nelson grool'd the French in stile,
Gunpowther shaw'd its might ;
There blazing to the skies it sent,
The Franks' chief boat La Orient,
To light the fleysome night.
At Gibraltar too, we may
Gie it a puff o* flattery.
Whan Elliot het balls did play,
On Spanish floating l)altery —
What burning, and yurning,
And blawing up was there ;
What whi/zing, and bizzing,
O' red shcit every where.
But whar Black Smeildum best ye shine.
Is in the dark and dreary mine,
*Mang orie ciaigs fu* yell ;
For sad ye in a jumper bore,
'l"he stratas stiff by you are tore.
That laugh 'd at wadge and mell.
Ye rive up Swetlcn's hard aim wyme.
And gars her trollies flee.
The clints we stew to gie us lime.
By you too raised be —
Thou's ne'er laith, to do l)aith,
The what is gude and ill,
Ye howk whiles, ye choke whiles,
Ye quarry, and can kill.
Ablins that cheel wha did ye fin,
That gouty Chinese Mandarin,
Or though ty Jesuit ;
Invented thee for doing gude.
And no for shedding human blude.
The job ye sae wcel hit.
Gif sic was the slee bodie's plan,
He's weel deserving praise,
And fame may hie exalt the man.
Her tooting horn gae raise —
Nae duel, fu' cruel.
Perhaps did cross his brain.
Nor battles, that brattles,
Klude sumping mony a plain.
248 GUN GUN
Whan men war huflPd wi' crabbit words.
They anciently drew out their swords,
Sharp gleamers frae Toledo ;
And flecg'd at either dreigh and lang,
Till scuUs and shields fu' wildly rang.
And thumbs and knuckles bled O !
A gash wi* them was but a scart,
It only mair did warm them,
For blude they didna care a f — t,
A wee thing didna harm them —
Nae fleeching, but bleaching,
And skelping on at will,
Was seen than on green than,
Fair play attending still.
But now a fiittie l)anker's dark,
A flonkie ance wi* ruffl'd sark.
Or hauf pay idle sodger ;
Will mak a flash, and tak the pen.
And gab *bout honourable men.
To raise some honest codger.
Till nought will please but pistols for't,
It*s fit to gar ane scanner,
The worthy man is shot in sport,
For what's ca'd wounded honour —
Nae neive now maun deave now.
The gentrie's ill faurd din,
Nae stick now maun lick now,
The yeucky yallow skin.
Hech, nature's laws are laughen at,
(junpowther thou*s the cause o* that,
Thou ticklish de'il uncanny ;
Had thou been kend in days o* yore,
Whan eastern blackguards fought and swore,
Like Macedonian Sawny.
And that rough handled Csesar chap,
Wi* nameless rascals mony,
Wha pranc'd about through blude and lap.
Like our de'il, Modem Bonny —
Our Ian* now, o' man now,
Wad had few stocks ava,
Sic weeders, few breaders,
Wad here been left to craw.
Fell fae to life, and love sae sweet,
Ye gar baith bairns and mithers greet,
Sae fu* o' wae's thy tale ;
E'en beasts and burds, on Ian and sea,
Sair dread the savage might o* thee,
As Fuss and Whaup and Wale.
OUR HAB 249
The supple shank, the wing, the fin.
Are racers no thy match,
For like the flares o' light ye rin,
And deadly aft ye catch —
Sae now than, adieu than,
About ye Til nae mair,
Gae string than, or sing than,
For my saul wi' ye's sair.
GuRLiE — Blustery, given to squalls.
GuRNEL — A strange shaped, thick man; also, a fisherman's
implement, used ih inserting " stobs^' or stakes in the sand,
to spread nets on.
GuTCHER — Grandfather.
Gutter-hole — The place where all filth is flung out of the
kitchen to.
GuTTRELLS — Young fat swine.
Gutty — A big-bellied person.
Gyte — Deranged, simply.
Gyzent — Shrunk with the sun's rays ; drinkers say of them-
selves, whiles that they are gyzent^ when they have not been
drinking for some time.
H
Ha'— Hall.
Habbersack — A bread bag, French haversack.
Habble — To hobble, to walk lamely.
Habbocraws — A shout the peasants give to frighten the crows
of the com fields, throwing up their bonnets or hats at the
same time. A person once fell a sleeping and snoring in
a church, the priest being a dull orator; when the psalm
began to be sung, he believed himself amongst the rooks,
and started up, roaring with outspread arms, habbocrcm% to
the astonishment of the holy congregation.
250 HAC HAG
Hacked — Rough, cracked, &c.
Hacks — Rocky, mossy, black wilds.
Hacks o' Anwoth — A very wild moorish place, in that
parish of Anwoth,
Hackston — An old Borgue bard, he had a vein for rhyme ;
some say but a small vein ; he once wrote to the king, to
know if he would have him be laureate, subscribing him-
self poet and private English teacher^ parish of Borgue ;
what a valuable curiosity would this address to royalty be ;
Oh ! for a copy, but alas, I am afraid it is lost for ever.
His song of Paul Jones is tolerable, and is not yet forgot by
some : —
** She came from Flambro' Head,
*' Did she not, did she not,
** She was a ship o* dread,
** Was she not, was she not," &c.
Blairy the queer laird of Senwick, was wont to have some
fun with him, when a party of gentlemen was with the
singular landlord, Hackston^ the poet (who was commonly
about the house) was allowed to come amongst the
company ; then whisky would be given him, a thing he was
always very fond of, and so when they had him half drunk,
they diverted themselves at the poor poet's expence ;
once they got a sword, and made the poor wretch believe
he was about to be run through with it, but ere this was
done they would grease the blade, so that it might transfix
him a sleeker manner ; it is needless to sketch the auld wight
farther.
Haffers — Sharing half in anything.
Hafflins — Half-ways.
Haffmanor — Having land in partnership, between t^vo.
Hafi'Ed — Animals are said to be hafted, when they live con-
tented on strange pastures, when they have made a haunt.
Hag — To hew.
HAG HAL 251
Hagelcxj — A clog of wood to hew on.
Hags — Rocky, moor ground ; the same with Hacks,
Hag-yard — A stack-yard. The phrase, ^^ clear the hagy" means,
clear all out of the way.
Hainching — Throwing, by springing the arm on the haunch.
Hair — A small quantity of any thing.
Haivers — Foolish chat ; idle conversation.
Haiveralls — Fools, who talk Haivers.
Hallans — Mid-walls through cottages, composed of cross bars,
and overlaid with straw plastered with clay, called cat day ;
also, those abutments or batteries, built against weak walls to
keep them from falling, are termed hallans,
Hallicket — Fools. Thoughtless, restless beings, who cannot
haul ; who must be running every where, and talking a great
deal on subjects they know nothing about
Hallion — A blackguard.
Hallow-een — Hallow-eve, or eve of All Saints. Before
the incomparable Bums brought the superstitious ob-
servances of this night into ridicule, it was a wonderful
one all over Scotland; and even yet, though superstition
be laid aside, it is a night much attended to, and full of
frolics ; thus a large deep tub is filled with water, in
which is put a large apple, so the rustics strip off their
upper garments, and try to catch it with their teeth; this
they find impossible to do, while it swims on the surface,
so they dive down with it under the mouth, and when it
strikes the bottom, they dart their tusks in, and so tri-
umphantly brings it up.
A candle, and apple too, are hung both by one string, at
one place ; to have a bite of this, without burning the face,
creates much fun.
Then songs are sung, and whisky goes round, which
are cheering things, and if attended by a fiddle, much
252 HAL HAN
more so. I have been speaking with respect to the way
the lower classes now observe it; the higher again meet
in large parties together, play cards, feast, drink,
(lance, &c
But I must own there is nothing so poetical now about
the matter, as was in the days d long syne. "When biue-
clues, fair water and foul, eating apples at glasses, washing
sark-sleeves at rare bunis^ pulling kailnmts^ &c went for-
ward." I have seen the old plan tried too, but superstition
cannot be mimicated.
Hallyoch — A term used to express that strange gabbling noise
people make, who are talking in a language we do not under-
stand. Thus, a club of Manxmen together are said to haud
an unco gabbie labbie d a hallyoch wV ither.
Hammer, Block, and Study — A school game. A fellow lies
on all fours, this is the block; one steadies him before, this is
the study ; a third is made a " hammer " of, and swung by
boys, against the block ; it is a rude game.
Hampers — Large baskets, carried on the backs of asses.
Hanbarrow — A spoked barrow, carried by the hands.
Hanbeast — The horse a ploughman directs with the left
hand.
Hanch — To eat like a swine.
Hannie — Handy.
Han owre Head — A phrase, signifying "choosing with-
out selecting ; " thus, in large droves of cattle, there are
some fat and others lean. Drovers, in purchasing these,
will sometimes take the good, and leave the bad, this is
called sJwoting; others will take the lot as it is, this is
buying them hand owre head; both plans are ruled by
the way the bargain is made; to leave shotts and have
all good, the price for each will be larger, of course, than
taking them at random.
HAN HAP 253
Hand-reel — An old reel or machine, used for winding and
numbering the hanks of yam ; while winding, the auld
wives counted thus : — " There's ane^ and there's no ane^ and
there's arte a* out"
Hansle — A morning lunch.
Hantle — A quantity of anything, and it may either mean
a large or a small quantity, there being no limitation to the
term ; " he has a Iiantie o' yon sillar dune now " means, that
a good sum of the money is spent, but how much or how
little it does not detennine. An English woodcutter was
assisting once to hew down a Gallovidian forest, when a
native came up to him and said, " he had a hantle o* that
timmer down now." The Englishman stood mute, and the
traveller, thinking him sullen, passed on ; the other bucherans
observing this, gathered round their fellow, and began to
quiz him about not answering the man ; " I knew (said our
hero of the hatchet) well enough what the fellow said, but
how could I answer him ? If he had told me how many
acres of wood he mean'd by a hantle^ then I might have
been able to give him some satisfaction."
Happ — To cover : also a cover.
Hapshackled — An horse is said to be so when an hind
and fore foot are confined by a rope fixed to them ; this
is to hinder them to " hop " or leap.
Hap, step, and Jump — A way of taking three leaps — first hop,
then step, and again leap.
Hap the Beds — A singular game gone through by hopping
on one foot, and with that foot sliding a little flat stone out
of an oblong bed, rudely drawn on a smooth piece of ground ;
this bed is divided into eight parts, the two of which at
the farther end of it are called the kail pots ; if the player
then stands at one end, and pitches the smooth stone
into all the divisions one after the other, following the
254 HAP HAR
same on a foot (at every throw), and bringing it out of
the figure, this player wins not only the game, but is-,
considered a first-rate daub at it; failing, however, to g(^
through all the parts so, without missing either a throw-=-
or a hop, yet keeping before the other gamblers (for many-
play at one bed), still wins the curious rustic game.
Hap weel — Rap weel — A phrase, meaning "hit or
miss."
Hargle Barglin — Higgling, disputing about bargain-
making.
Harl — To trail ; a harl^ a trail.
Harrist — Harvest ; sometimes Hairst,
Harrist Broth — The broth made use of as food in harvest,
allowed to be the best broth to be met with in the
country all the year round, for then the vegetable world
is in perfection; then indeed they sparkle with rich em,
and a brosc made with the broe taken out of the /ee side d
the kail pot, is quite an exquisite dish at this season,
setting at nought the boasted skill of the French in the
art of cookery.
Harrist Moon — The moon in the harvest or Michael-
mas time of the year. At this season she presents us
with one of the most vivid marks we have of the Al-
mighty directing the movements of nature towards the good
of man ; by attending to her emotions at this period, can
any rational creature deny the existence of Deity ? it is im-
possible. Though we may know by the sublime science
of Astronomy —
** That the Harrist Moon^
** Rises nine nights alike soon," or will rise.
That as she is passing through one of her northern nodes,
or ascending, while the sun is southing beyond the Equator,
and descending, her march round the earth becomes as it
HAR HAT 255
were obvious on the horizon ; every night for about nine
together, we find her having her thirteen degrees of more
amplitude from the south, which are about her daily number,
and so waning away to the north. Yet who gave her orders
for this ; who caused her wanderings to be this way at this
season, and at no other? Who but he whom all should
adore, in the fulness of soul.
By fixing her this way, how is the husbandman befriended,
and when this is so, is not all mankind befriended ? for the
farmer feeds the world. Was the moon not to shine forth in
harvest-time, was darkness to come on the moment the sun
sank in the west, how much would it retard the gathering in
the ft'uits of the earth ; but as it is otherways, the farmer has
the liberty of adding whatever part of the night he pleases to
the day, in order to fonvard his labours, and assist him in
umnning up the yearns work. Anciently, though, this nioon^
which was called the Michaelmas moofi, was hailed by some
of our ancestree as a mighty useful thing for other purposes —
viz. in reaving and making inroads, many a marauder made
a good fortune in her beams. The tocher which a doughty
borderer gave a daughter, was the result of his reaving during
this moon. But surely Providence never intended her to
favour such as the Elliots^ the Armstrongs, and J^ocks o*
the Side of yore.
Hartscaud — The heart-bum.
Hash — An impudent young man.
Hashloch — Waste, refuse, &c.
Hasky — Husky, rough, &c., not clean nor smooth.
Hasple — A sloven in every sense of the word.
Haitie — A game m\h preens, pins, on the crown of a hat; two
or more may play ; each lay on a pin, then with the hand
they strike the side of the hat, time about, and whoever
makes the pins by a stroke cross each other, lift those so
256 HAU HAW
crossed. It is quite delightful to describe the Scotch games.
Navigators sail away by the pole, and travellers pop their
noses into Africa, yet bring not home accounts of the
manners of any people half so strange as our own, when
truly described.
Haughs — Wide glens, with some level land in them, and a
river running down the middle. Haughs, cieuc/is, glens, and
gills, are all of the same " genera," as a naturalist would say,
but different in species and character.
Haurk — A term much used by Scotch foxhunters, when the
hounds find the scent of reynard in one of his keeps, or
challenge him ; the terriers or little dogs are brought to the
place, and desired by Nimrod to get below, far aneath the
yirdy the which they will do without much entreaty; but
when they come near the throne of his majesty, his highness
places himself so in a jamb or chink, that they cannot get be-
hind him ; there stand the little vicious creatures, and keep up
a continued barking. When the hunter hears by them the
situation they are in, he bawls down to haurk to him, haurk
to him, ye wee blasties ; so, in defiance of the tusks of the fox,
they seize on, and drag out the crafty villain.
Haurl — A female careless of dress.
Haurnpan — The scull.
Haurrage — A blackguard crew of people.
Haveron — A goat a year old, gelded.
Havoc-burds — Those large flocks of small birds which fly
about the fields after harvest; they are of different sorts,
though all of the linnet tribe. IVhunlinties form the greatest
number.
Hawckin — The noise made to clear the throat.
Hawkie — An affectionate name for a favorite cow. Bums
talks about " tivall-pint Haivkie,^^ Hurly Haivkie is the call
milk-maids use to call the cows home to be milked.
HAW HEA 257
It is somewhat a curious song, that one of Hurlie Hawkie ;
the world may have a sight of it ; —
O yonder*s my Nannie gathering the kye,
Whar the e'ening sun is beaming,
Awa on the hazley brae down by,
Whar the yellow nits are leaming.
And ay she cries ** Hurly liawkie.
** String awa, my crommies, to the milking loan,
" Ilurly, Huriy, Hawky."
How sweetly her voice dinnles through my heart,
ril wyle roun* and her foregather,
Tak a kiss or twa, and then gae part.
For fear o* her crusty father.
And ay she cries, " Hurly Hawkie,
** String, string awa hame to the milking loan,
** Hurly, Hurly, Hawky."
Now a' in a flutter she lies in my arms
On the hinny smelling bank o clover,
Wha wad be sae base as steal her charms !
It shall na !)e me her lover.
I'll let her cry, ** Hurly Hawkie,
** And wize the kye hame to the milking loan,
"Hurly, Hurly, Hawkie."
Hawk-studyin — The way Hawks steadily hover above their
prey before they pounce on it ; they anchor themselves in the
air, as it were, and always with their " bow " or breast to the
wind. No other birds but them seem to be able to " bring
to " in the aerial element ; no wonder this was taken notice of
by the ancients, as in the question put to the Man of Uzz,
" Dost thou know how the hawk flies ? " Indeed, none can
say how ; none human.
Hawse-bane — That rise beneath the chin and the throat.
Headim and Corsim — A game with pins. Pins are
hid with fingers in the palms of the hands; the same
number is laid alongside them, and either headim or corsim
called out by those who do so ; when the fingers are lifted*
if the heads of the pins hid, and those beside them, be
lying one way, when the crier cried headim^ then that
player wins ; but if corsim^ the one who hid the pins wins.
This is the king of all the games, at the preens, and let
it not be thought that it is a bairtis play ; by no means ;
258 HKA HEA
it is jilayed by lads and lasses as big as ever they will be,
and by those whom age has again made young ; the game
is simple and harmless, and not uninteresting ; the Peasant
is as anxious about gaining a preeti, as my Lord Duke would
be about ten thousand pounds ; when the stakes run high,
bammen and ploughmen get noisy over them, and play
open-mouthed, taking such hearty laughs whiles, that sparrows
who have " taken up lodging for the night," in the thacked
easifigs, flutter frightened from their holes. Cheatery is
sometimes heard of in this game too ; then is the saying
sounded, " They wha begin to steal needles and pins, end
wi' stealing horned kye ; " (as the twig is bent the tree's
inclined.)
Headrigg — The ridge which runs along the ends of the
others.
Heads and Tails — That plan for deciding matters by the
" birl d a bawbee^ The one side cries heads y (when the piece
is a whirling in the air) and the other tails ; so whichever is
up when the piece alights, that gains, or settles the matter;
^^^^ standing for the king's head, fails for she who represents
Britannia. Some will doubtless laugh at me for explaining
things minutely which seem to them to be so well known as
to need no explanation ; I may just laugh at these in return,
for there is not one in a hundred " could explain" what is —
/leads and fai/s.
Heather-bleet — The mire snipe.
** The laverock and the lark,
** The bawkic and the bat,
•• The heaihcr-blect^ the mire-snipe,
'* How many burds be that ? '
There are some who must think awhile before they
answer tnis question rightly, by saying three. The snipe
is called heather-bleet ^ from her loving wild heathery
marshes, and when soaring aloft, " bleating^' with her wings,
in the spring time. Yes, bleating with her wings, not
HEA HER 259
with her mouth ; she vibrates her wings quick against the
air, causing the sweet bleating noise to take place.
Heather-cow — A heath-broom.
Hech I — ^An exclamation used almost on every emergency.
Hech-how ! — ^The same as the above ; only it is the name of
the poisonous herb, hemlock, also.
Hech-how-hum ! — An exclamation much like those above,
only, it is always accompanied with a yawn.
Heck — ^A hay-rick. Also the toothed thing which guides the
spun-thread on to the pirn, in spinning-wheels.
Heddles — ^Those parts of a weaver^s loom through which
the threads come to be wove. They are connected with the
^^ threadles,** and can be altered any way at the weavers
pleasure, by his touching the " treadles " with his feet
Heezie — A mighty lift
Hell's-holes — ^Those dark nooks which are dreaded as being
haunted with bogles.
Helter-skelter — Bounding forward, fearless of every
thing ; not caring whether the way is right or wrong*
confused or not
Hemp-riggs — Ridges of fat land whereon hemp was sown
in the olden time; and in these modem days, when land
is a praising for goodness, it is said to be as strong as
hemp-riggs,
Henchvents — The same with "gores," pieces of linen put
into the lower parts of a shirt, to make that end wider than
the other, to give " vent" or room for the " haunch."
Heron, the Historian — Sketches of the life and character
of this ill-fated Gallovidian, have now frequently been given,
so I only mean to say a few things not spoken of by any.
26o HER HER
When he was in his seventeenth or eighteenth year, he taught
some farmers' families in the Parish d Borgue. My mother
had the honour to be one of his pupils. He lashed his
scholars sometimes dreadfully, for his temper was easily
ruffled. A big lad at his school being called up for punish-
ment once, the fellow burst out " that he would not be lashed
by any Heron that ever lap on twa legs ;" so the teacher and
he had a set-to^ both came madly to the scratchy the dominie
"wzsflooredy his breadbasket was almost broken on a binkj and
from his nose claret leaked profusely.
In those days he was a great reader : the book was never
out of his hand, and the manner in which he punished the
boys was hitting them a skelp on the side of the head with
a book, which made the tears start in their eyes. He fre-
quented the loop of a burn much : this was an out-of-the-way
nuik. Here did he study with deep attention the mazy
world of literature. When the house-maid would have
wanted him to come to dinner, in vain might she have
stood at a distance and called on Mr, Heron ; he heard her
not, being so deeply absorbed with his books, so she
had no other shift than always go, and put at him with her
hand, saying whiles, " O ! wad the bum rise some day
and swoop Heron afore't into the sea." These natural
touches, trivial looking though they be, strike at the foun-
dation of this wayward character. He was fretful and
ambitious, fond to excess of learning ; had he read nature
though, more than books, it would have been as well for
his fame now-a-days. He is not an original writer ; his
thoughts commonly are at second or third hand. Had he
given the world a history of his native clauchan, New
Galloway, I do not know but it would have been as much
to his fame as his History of Scotland, good though that
work be. His sentences are much too long, a reader is
apt to lose the thread of the discourse. Poor fellow I
but why say any thing against him ? few, few are bom with
HET HEY 261
half his talents. The heart melts when thinking of his
latter end ; had I been in London when he was inhumanly
incarcerated in a lazar house, if I had not found some
means to relieve, I would have perished with him.
Het-ahame — It is said of those who wander abroad
when they have no need to do so, and happen to fare
ill, that they " war mure het ahame'^
Het-bitch — A bitch in her rutting season.
Het-Drinks — Warm drinks of the cordial nature, which gude-
wives bumper at ^'^•KimtnerinsP
Heughs — Precipices. Some of these in Galloway are very
steep and deep ; perhaps those of Cru^leton and Rascar-
rel are the largest on the shore, but those of Caimsmoor,
in the inland, are far larger. Many kill themselves clam-
bering about on these for birds' eggs and *'*■ pasper^^ and
cattle often fall over them no more to rise with the life.
Davie Mabetiy an old cross-grained herdy once quarrelled
with his dog, when he catched him by the hind heels^ and
tossed him over the " Raen Nest Hcuch " of the " Nether-
law^^ exclaiming, when the poor tyke was suffering below,
** Did you not know that I was a passionate man ? " Per-
haps Shakespeare or Scott have expressed nothing more
genuine than this, of mad feeling.
Hey Wullie Wine, and How Wullie Wine — An old
fire-side play of the peasantry, hinted at by Cromek ; but
there are many ways of drawing out the merry concern.
Suppose, seated round the ingle^ in ih^ fore-nighty a large
party of lads and lasses, full of mirth, beauty, honesty,
and simplicity; in short, bairnies of nature. One of the
lasses, for instance, addresses one of the lads so —
" Hey, Wullie Wine, and IIow Wullie Wine,
** I hoi)c for hame ye' 11 no incline,
'* Ye'll better light, and stay a' night,
** And I'll gie thee a lady fine."
26o HER HER
When he was in his seventeenth or eighteenth year, he taught
some farmers' families in the Parish d Borgue, My mother
had the honour to be one of his pupils. He lashed his
scholars sometimes dreadfully, for his temper was easily
ruffled. A big lad at his school being called up for punish-
ment once, the fellow burst out " that he would not be lashed
by any Heron that ever lap on hua legs ;" so the teacher and
he had a set-to, both came madly to the scratch, the dominie
"wzs floored, his breadbasket was almost broken on a bink, and
from his nose claret leaked profusely.
In those days he was a great reader : the book was never
out of his hand, and the manner in which he punished the
boys was hitting them a skelp on the side of the head with
a book, which made the tears start in their eyes. He fre-
quented the loop of a burn much : this was an out-of-the-way
nuik. Here did he study with deep attention the mazy
world of literature. When the house-maid would have
wanted him to come to dinner, in vain might she have
stood at a distance and called on Afr, Heron ; he heard her
not, being so deeply absorbed with his books, so she
had no other shift than always go, and put at him with her
hand, saying whiles, " O ! wad the bum rise some day
and swoop Heron afore^t into the sea." These natural
touches, trivial looking though they be, strike at the foun-
dation of this wayward character. He was fretful and
ambitious, fond to excess of learning ; had he read nature
though, more than books, it would have been as well for
his fame now-a-days. He is not an original writer; his
thoughts commonly are at second or third hand. Had he
given the world a history of his native clauchan^ New
Galloway, I do not know but it would have been as much
to his fame as his History of Scotland, good though that
work be. His sentences are much too long, a reader is
apt to lose the thread of the discourse. Poor fidkm!
but why say any thing against him ? few, fev Vt bom vidi
-— /• x.
HEX HEY 261
half his talents. The heart melts when thinking of his
latter end ; had I been in London when he was inhumanly
incarcerated in a. lazar house, if I had not found some
means toreUeve, I would ha^'c perished with him.
Het-ahame — It is said of those who wander abroad
when they have no need to do so, and happen to fare
ill, that they " -war owre het aliame."
Het-bitch — A bitch in her rutting season.
Hei'-Drinks — Warm drinks of the cordial nature, which gude-
wives bumper at "Kimtiierins."
Heughs — Precipices. Some of these in Galloway are very
steep and deep ; perhaps those of CraggUtoii and Rascar-
rel are the largest on the shore, but those of Cairtismoor,
in the inland, are far lai^er. Many kill themselves clam-
bering about on these for birds' eggs and " pasper," and
cattle often fall over them no more to rise with the life.
Dai'ie Mabeti, an old cross-grained herd, once quarrelled
with his dog, when he catched him by the ///hi/ heels, and
tossed him over the " Raen NesI Heuch " of the " Nether-
law" exclaiming, when the poor tyke was suffering below,
" Did you not know that I was a passionate man ? " Per-
haps Shakespeare or Scott have expressed nothing more
genuine than this, of niad feeling.
Hey Wullie Wine, and How Wullie Wine— An old
fire-side play of the peasantry, hinted at by Cromek ; but
there are many ways of drawing out the merry concern.
Suppose, seated round the ingU, in the /ore-nigit, a large
party of lads and lasses, full of mirth, beauty, honesty,
and simplicity ; in short, dairm'es of nature. One of the
lasses, for instance, addresses one of the lads so —
Hey. WuUic Wine, nnU How Wullie Wine,
' ' ame ye'U no incline,
light, and suy a' nigbl,
thee > lady line."
262 HEV - HEY
Then he answers,
** Wha will ye gie if I wi* ye bide,
** To be my bonny blooming bride,
•* And lie down lovely by my side?''
Again she —
** I'll gie Ihee Kate o' Dinglebell,
** A bonny tfody like yersell."
Then he —
'* I'll slick her up in the pear-tree,
** Sweet and meek and >ae is she ;
** I lo*ed her ance, but she's no for me,
" Yet I thank ye for your courtesy."
She—
** I'll gie thee Rozie o' the Cleugh,
** I'm sure she'll please thee weel eneugh.
He—
** Up wi' her on the bane dyke,
** She'll be rotten or I be ripe ;
** She's made for some ither, and no for me,
" Yet I thank ye for your courtesy."
She—
** Then I'll gie ye Nell o' sweet Sprinkcll,
** Owre Gallowa she bears the bell."
He-
'* rU set her up in my bed-head,
** And feed her weel wi' milk and bread ;
** She's for nae ither but jist for me,
** Sae I thank ye for your courtesy."
Such is a specimen of the concern. The lady before
the questions are put, whispers to another, the girl he will
stop with — so this one must be given before the dialogue
ends. The chief drift of this singular amusement seems
to be, to discover the sweethearts of one another, and such
discoveries are thought valuable, but not so much so as they
were anciently.
HID HIE 263
HiDDLiNs — In a hidden way, not open.
HiE-cocKET Hat — A hat with the brim thrice cocked. It is said
to be "the life of an old hat to cock it" Anciently these
hats were very commonly wore ; also hair tied and clubbed in
a ribbon /and; coats long in the waist with large buttons ;
waistcoats with pouch-flaps side on the thee, and mostly of a
demity cuty with broad mother d pearl buttons ; breeches with-
out braces, but with buckles and biukleflaps, and these breeks
were generally of either a hoddan grey or slate-blue colour ;
stockings knitted ahame, with many ribs; shoes sharp-toed,
with buckles, and often with buckles and fause-tags. Thus
adorned, tag-rag and bob-tail, our forefathers were no Joke,
A dandy at a country kirk in these times would have been
hailed as a most astonishing object ; the auld wives would
have thought "// had drapped frae the moon.'* The first
umbrella that ever was braced in Galloway belonged to a
Sutor, who ivotid about the Gate-Jwuse fifty years ago ; he
ran allwheres through the country to display the fairly, and
being at Borgue kirk one windy day, while coming over
the kirk-stile, all eyes on him, a gurl came, when all sail
was set, and away went the tappin lift, down came the
pikes clashing about his lugs, and one of them transfixed
his cheek to the effusion of Crispan's blood. O I but I glory
to keek back into the days of yore, and take a laugh.
Hi ELAN Fling — A rustic dance.
Hielan-Man's Burial — A funeral which lasts more than
a day. These are common yet in the Highlands of Scot-
land, but rarely now to be met with in the Lowlands ;
however, funerals nigh approaching to them sometimes
happen. The mourners get *'fow " at the burial house ^
and have a dancing time with the corpse on the road from
thence to the kirk-yard. If the old ^^freef' be true
" that those who fall when at the handspake aneath the
264 HIE HIE
corpse, will soon be the corpse themsell," there would
soon be a good few corpses; for at these ^*' drunken'"
concerns, the bearers are falling some of them every now
and then. The following is a verbatim account of one
of these burials : — " At length the laird o' the Bower-
tree BusSy gaed his last pawt, was straughted, dressed,
coffined and a'; and I was bidden to his burial the Tues-
day after."
" There I gaed, and there were met a wheen fine boys.
Tarn d t/te Todholes, and Wall d the Slack war there ; Ndl
Wulson^ t/te fisher, and Wuil Rain, the gunner, too; the
first service that came roun' was strong farintosh, famous peat
reek, there was nae grief amang us. The laird had plenty ,
had neither a wife nor a wean, sae wha cud greet We drew
close to ither, and began the cracks ding dang, while every
minute roun* came anither reamin service. I faun' the bees
i' my head bizzin strong, in a wee time. The inside of the
burial house was like the inside o' a Kelton-hill tent ; a banter
came frae the tae side of the room, and was sent back wi'
a jibe frae the ither. Lifting at last began to be talked about,
and at last lift we did. * Whaever wished for a pouchfu' o*
drink might tak it.* This was the order ; sae mony a douce
black coat hang side wi' a heavy bottle. On we gaed wi*
the laird, his weight we faun na'. Wull IVeer we left ahin
drunk on the spot Rob Fisher took a sheer as we came
dovrci the green brae, and landed himsell in a rossen <f
breers: Whaup-nebbed Samuel fell aif the drift too. I
saw him as we came cross Hotvnuraig ; the drink was gaen
frae him like couters. Whan we came to the Taffdyke that
rins cross Barrend, there we laid the laird down till we
took a rest a wee. The inside o' pouches war than turned
out, bottle after bottle was touted owre; we rowed about,
and some warsled. At last a game at the quoits was pro-
posed ; we played, but how we played I kenna. Whan we
got tae the kirk-yard the sin was just plumpin down ; we
HIE HIE 265
pat the coffin twice in the grave wrang, and as oflen had to
draw't out again. We got it to fit at last, and in wi' the
moulds on't. The grave-digger we made a beast o*. Sic a
funeral I was ne'er at afore ; surely, I ay think that it was
na unlike a HielarC man^ s Buried,^
I may follow the sketch of the ffielandman'Sy with
THE BIG MAN'S BURIAL.
Whan simmer suns were blazing high,
And clegs made cattle startle,
Whan gussey in the dub did lie,
And hardly ^^aed a spartle ;
Frae Bath came hame to Oxterlee
Lonl Burble's stinking carcage,
Pack'd up in coffins ane, twa, tnree,
A most infernal farks^e
To yird some day.
His honest tenant folks about
Were glad the same to hear,
For lang the scurr had screw'd the snout.
And damn'd the fa'ing tear ;
But that disease reserved by death
For hal lions sic as he.
Which works by licf, hotch'd out his breath,
And left him to the e'e
Grey sight ae day.
Now, as it often is the gate
Wi* sic like purse-proud fools.
Whan dead, to lie a while in state
Afore they gang tae mools,
Sae in a bonny airy room
The great Lord Burble loU'd,
While clowns and chambermaids did come
Gnuul torches to behold
As bright as day.
What gowden bobs and siller cords
Wi' raws o' tackets clear.
Did glister on the varnish 'd boards
Tmit held the lousy peer ;
Through a* the Ian' o' Gallowa
The news like muir-bum ran,
And o'er the seas and far awa
That death this nobleman
Had down'd ae day.
266 HIE - - HIE
And that upon the coming twault
O* mochy sultry July,
He wad be rowed to his vault.
Which beggars minded truly ;
They left Maybole and Minnieivc,
Fu* ragged and fu* merry,
And many a loon w^ha ne'er did thrive
In counties I>own and Derry,
For that big day.
Behold them limping out the roads
That led to Oxterlee,
And hurkeling in glen abodes,
A dusty sight to see ;
High were their hopes for food and cash,
And drink to keep them strunting,
Which cures the yislc and waterbrash.
And sets the pipes a lunting
Sure grab that day.
What skinless cuddies hobbling by.
What troops come fla^ng on
Frae the aula clauchan a Dairy,
And grim Damellinton ;
What sarkless randy hizzies there
Just bubbeling wi* bawdery.
Their hips, outkeeking, did declare
They cared na much for gaudery
To shine that day.
** Rike me out my blackish breeks,"
Quoth Rab o' Braxy Brae,
To Mall, the wife — sae she them seeks,
Deep hid amang the lac.
He claps them on his rustic doup,
Sae hairy and sac yellow.
And af tae burial did loup,
A raw-baned country fallow,
To help that day.
And there was need o* some strong folk
To en* him down the stair,
For faith, lead cofHns are nae joke.
They gall the shout her sair ;
This, Factor Glunch did brawly ken,
Sae sought the crowds fu' neatly
For sax or aught strong sturdy men.
To do the business featly
And right that day.
HIE HIE 267
The first twa that he picked on
War Rab and Jock the Tar,
Rough Jock wha mony a year had shone,
On board a man o' war ;
Than Putting Tam, Black Boxing Ned,
And Pate, the mighty thrasher ;
Marie-throwing Wull, Leash Sam the Blade
\Vi' Jeamy Jirk, the smasher,
To lift that day.
But tho' they war the strongest chiels.
That day upon the ground, •
They often stagger'd on their heels.
When his great weight they found ;
And coming slowly, step by step,
Thus rather overpowered,
Iloch ! ane o* them a fit did slip,
Sae down his lordship low'red
Fu' fast that day.
The swearing now fii' loud began,
Crush'd taes were felt a* quaking.
And skin, torn aff a leg or han',
Gaed subjects for coarse talking.
Fat Jock, the man-o'-war*s-man, damn'd
Rab for a rotten lubber ;
While thrasher Pate the sailor blamed
For nought but stinking blubber,
And filth that day.
The tinklers on the gowany green
Upstarted frae their hurdies.
And now about my lord were seen
Outspuing bonny wordies ;
Nae bossness then they felt ava*
Within the pow and crappin*,
For plenty had been gien to a'.
And nane refused their chappin'
To glutt that day.
Some weil-dress'd bloods now seem'd to tak
Upon them a' the trouble.
The ragabash were ordered back.
And then began the hiibble ;
For cudj ells now war seen to bounce
Aff sculls and bloody noses.
While, some unfit to stan' a whunce,
Stcn'd aff, and missed the doses
O' that wild day.
268 HIL HIL
At last the beggars cleared the field,
For wha could stan' their whunners ?
The verra ploughmen had to yield,
Wi' hides as black as shuners. '
Then on four rollers they did place
His lordship and his coffins.
And haurl'd him to his vault wi' grace,
'Thout either sneers or scoffins,
To close that dav.
Sae snugly now he rots awa
In hole below the grun,
Auld Shanky values no ae fla'
Slump fifty thousan* pun'.
May every curse wha lives like he
By vermin sae be crum{)ed.
Yea, like him too, interred be.
And in liell bravely thumped
Wi' pith, some day.
HiLCH — A singular halt.
HiLLANS — Small artificial hills of any thing.
HiLLFOwK — Those truly religious and independent people,
the Covenanters, well known to all the world ages ago,
and the inhuman manner in which they were persecuted
anciently, makes all men of feeling admire them. That
person is never of a great character who laughs at the hill-
fowk; there is less patriotic blood in the vjins of such than
would fill a nut-shell, ^nd the heart is as rotten as a
yellow puddock stool They are called the hill-foivk, from
their love of the primitive plan of worshipping the Creator,
as his son did, amongst the hills and mountains in the
open air, under the cerulean canopy. Of all the sects of
Christians in the world, these and the Quakers for me ;
because the last say little, and wrangle less, respecting
religious matters, but venerate the whole with solemn and
silent awe, moving about, on this sinful planet, an honor
to the human race; and the first for why, they do speak
but in a natural and manly manner. I have felt myself
frequently very much refireshed with hearing a hill-preach-
iftg^ and once was foolish enough to scrawl a little pam-
HIL HIN 269
phlet respecting hill-preachers^ which was published in
Galloway, intitled Osbom and Syminton on the IVeighbeam,
The Ilill-foivk are \htfo7vk to whom the kirk of Scotland
owes all her beauty ; for this they paid dearly with their
blood at Drumclog^ Bothwell Brigg, and elsewhere — ^scenes
never to be forgotten.
Hilt nor Hair — When anything is lost, and cannot be found,
we say, that we " canna see hilt nor hair o\" not the
slightest vestige. To English the phrase closely, we may
say, " Top nor tail.*'
HiNGiNG-LUGGED — A person is said to be hinging-lugged when
having an ill-will at any one, and apparently sulky. " Such
a one has a hinging-lugg at me," means that that one is not
well disposed towards me. For my own part, I am in love
with all mankind ; I never had a very great outcast with any,
and at present have not a hinging-lugg at a living soul. The
kicks and thousand rebuffs of this world, thank God, I can
take with pleasure, and give none. This phrase comes from
the way dogs, and some other brutes, have, of letting their
ears — luggs^ droop when on the eve of battle.
H INGINS — Bed curtains.
Hin-han-Plavers — For common, the best players at the
game of curling of their party ; they play after all the
others have played, and their throw is always much
depended on. Some argue that the best player should
not play last, as then the rink is made so foul with stones
that they have no chance to do anything. However, the
nature of man is always for having something good to rest
his hopes on at the last ; so good players must always finish
the splore,
Hin-harrest-time — That time of the year between harvest
and winter. The same with Back-ctt, which see.
Hinnerliths — The hind parts.
270 HIN HIP
HiNNiE-piGS — A school game ; also pots to hold honey. The
boys who try this sport sit down in rows, hands locked
beneath their hams. Round comes one of them, the
honey-merchant y who feels those who are sweet or sour, by
lifting them by the arm-pits, and giving them three shakes ;
if they stand these without the hands unlocking below, they
are then sweet and saleable, fit for being office-bearers of other
ploys. As to the pigs^ real honey-pots, an old bee-man once
had a very bad boy for a son, who longed to get at his
father's hinnie-pigs^ which were kept secure in a strong chest
Long the boy attempted to get a lick of the treasure, but in
vain. At last he hit on the infernal plan of loading the lid
of the hunker so with stones, that it gave way, and smashed
the hale o' the hinnie-pigs. His father, hearing the crash,
hunted him through the clauchan, bawling out, " I never saw
the like o* him, ye never saw the like o' him, nor mortal
man ever saw the like o* him."
HiNTiNGS — ^The furrows which ploughmen finish their ridges
with. These furrows are not like the others ; they are lifted
out of the bottom of the main ^^furr" and are soil of a
different nature.
The greatest difficulty young ploughmen have to surmount
when learning the tilth trade, is the proper way to "///*/
hintinsT This is the key-stone of the business, and
ploughing-matches are always decided by the way in which
this is done. I may here add, that it is never those who
gain prizes at the art of Cain who are the most useful
ploughmen to the farmer; they are too conceited, always
running to the forge with their airns^ and still flattering and
fattening their horses ; a common hand is always worth any
two of these.
HiPLocHs — The coarse wool which grows about the hips of
sheep.
HIR HIV 271
HiRPLE — To walk in a lame-like manner.
HiRR — The call to a dog to make him hunt
HiRSLE — A flock of animals; also, to slide softly on our bottom.
Hitch — A noose, a knot, a turn of a rope round any thing.
HiviNG-souGH — A singular sound bees are heard to make
before they hiz^ or cast, or leave their parents, Only Bee-
fowk who understand the nature of the insect well, know
any thing about this sough or sound. It is commonly
heard the evening before their departure. The bee's
bofiello probably it may be. It is a continued buzzing
hum, full of melancholy-like cadences. While on bees, I
may note a few of the many curiosities respecting them,
unspoke of by Virgil in his Georges ; Bonar, or any one
else. When a swarm intends to have a long flight, they
gather close together into the space of a few yards square,
or, as the peasantry say, into the breath 0* a gude grey plaid.
When they assume this figure, it is vanity to follow them.
This is the method they take of easing their flight, a plan
Poet Milton discovered, respecting wild-geese, and other
migrating birds. And what is singular, bees, in this state,
always wing their way right against the wind; now, know
they where they intend to journey to before they start,
or fly they at random ? If they know the place, then they
must look out for a fair 7vind, though with us that is
a head one, in present maritime law; but methinks, at
these times they know not where they wander, as fre-
quently they alight on a spot open to the elements, and so
perish, whereas they might have easily found a snug place.
Bees, taken to the torrid zone, do well the first year, but
learning there is no winter, but summer for ever, they soon
turn lazy, as when brought from the Moorlands to the Dale.
Some fancy we may take the honey from them without
killing, but this cannot be done. Let Boftar reason as he
will. Mine original Mossie Cloon would once turn a Bee-
272 HOA HOC
mafiy so followed one through the countiy awhile, to learn
the trade of taking and leaving a part At last he thought
himself fit for the trick, so a friend would let him try ; a
crowd gathered round, and Mossie began operations. The
bees became crusty; out they rushed in legions, vowing
revenge. The mob of spectators fled ; friend James was
indeed the last to fly^ but had to do it, and to take his
bed for some time after, being so stinged, and never more
would he profess to be a Bee-man,
HoAST — To cough ; to have the " Hoast^ to have the cold.
Hobble — To make a rocking motion.
HoBBLE-TE-HOY — An Unfeeling lad towards the ladies —
" A hohble-te-hoy,
** Neither a man nor a boy.''
They are indeed " senseless asses, O," who do not love
the sweetest work in all creation.
HocH — The back of the leg.
HocH Anee ! — An exclamation of grief.
O ! what's come owre my Sa>\Tiie,
Wha auce was sae blythe and free,
And what's befa'en Nanny,
Wha lo'ed the blink o' his e'e ;
Alas, puir chiel, he sank in a wave,
Awa i' the foaming sea,
And she broke her heart, and's now in her grave.
Sad, sad news — //ocA Afvie 1
Whan thegether they ay war funny,
It was nice to see them sae free.
And they ran on the braes sae sunny,
That haud in the river Dee ;
But sinner'd they were I kenna how.
And meikle grief they did dree,
Till they war ta'en to whar they're now.
Sad, sad news — Hock Anee I
And sae we are left a sobbing,
The tears blob in the e'e.
The heart wi' grief is throbbing.
For them nac mair we'll see ;
O ! they're fled awa and left our shore,
In the gude place may they be,
Tho' the twasome's fate we'll lang deplore.
Sad, sad news — I loch Anee!
HOC HOG 273
Hoch-ban' — A band which confines one of the legs of a rest-
less animal ; it passes round the neck and one of the legs.
HocHLE — ^To tumble lewdly with women in open day.
«
HoDDAN — ^To have a kind of jog when either walking or
riding.
HoG-MA-NAY, or HuG-ME-NAY — ^The last day of the
year. Dr. Jamieson, with a research that would have
frightened even a Murray or a Scalinger to engage in, has
at last owned, like a worthy honest man as he is, that the
origin of this term is quite uncertain ; and so should I say
also, did I not like to be throwing out a hint now and
then on various things, even suppose I be laughed at for
doing so.
Then here I give, like myself, whom am a being of small
scholarcraft, a few hindish speculations respecting this
mystic phrase ; to be plain, I think hog-ma-nay means
hug-me-nom — Hawse and ney^ the old nurse term, meaning,
" kiss me, and I'm pleased," runs somewhat near it : ney or
nay^ may be a variation that time has made on now.
Kissing, long ago, was a thing much more common than
at present. People, in the days gone by, saluted other in
churches, according to Scripture, with holy kisses ; and this
smacking system was only laid aside when priests began to
see that it was not Iwliness alone prompted their congrega-
tions to hold up their gabs to one another like Amous dishes^
as Bums says. And in " ane compendious buik o' Godly and
Spiritual Sangs^ for the avoiding of Sinne and Harlotree^^
printed in the old black letter, by Andro Harty at Edinburgh,
in 1590, the song of " yohn^ come kiss me noufy* made
its appearance as a suitable one to be sung in the
kirk—
** John, come kiss me now,
"John, come kiss me now,
"John, come kiss me by and by,
" And mak nae mair ado," &c.
S
274 HOG HOO
At weddings too, what a kissing there was ; and even to
this day, at these occasions much of it goes on : and on the
happy nights of hog-ma-tiay, the kissing trade is extremely
brisk, particularly in Auld Reekie ; then the lasses must kiss
with all the stranger lads they meet, while phrases not unlike
to—
"John, come kiss me now,
or
'* John, come hug me «iw,"
are frequently heard From such causes, methinks, hog-
fna-nay has started. The hugging day^ the time to hug-me-
now,
HoG-scoRES — Distance-lines in the game of curling. They
are made in the form of a wave, and are placed one-
fifth part of the whole rink from either witter ; that is to say
if the rink be fifty yards long, from tee to tee^ the hog-scares
of that rink are thirty yards distant fi'om other.
If the bottom of a stone gets over this " score^^ and its
upper bulb not, still that stone is no " hogg^ If the stones
come not over this line, they are flung out of the game.
Sweeping is not allowed until the stone conies over the hogg^
unless by the person who played it.
HoLiN wi' Hunger — Those a-gnawing with hunger, are
said to be ^^ holing wf hunger" or that the worms are
eating up their empty ^^ingangs,' and holing their
bodies.
Hooch — A shout of joy. ^"^ Hooch it's like a uf adding^'
shout the peasantry, when dancing, making their heels
crack on other at the same time. Hooch is sure to inspire
glee, while tribbling Boh Major^ or cutting double quick
titne. This call is considered extremely imlgar by the
HOO HOO 275
genteel, but what the devil cares the honest rustic about the
genteel. One of his terms, warm from the heat of nature, is
worth a million of artful gentilities ; it carries a strong sough
always.
HooDiCRAWS — Carrion, or grey-crows, called hoodicrawSy for
when they get old, they become white in colour all but
the feathers of the head ; these keep black, and look as if
the bird had on a cowl or hud. About wild sea-shores,
these fowls mark the outgoing of the tide, so to get at the
shell-fish called wilk, or periwinkle, a kind of sea-snail,
cased in a strong castle, but not impregnable to the hoodi-
craw ; he lifts them into the air thirty or forty yards, then
entrusts them to the care of gravity, which brings them
crashing down on the rocks, followed close by the voracious
bird, who picks up the uncastled gentry as dainty food for
the gizzeron.
The whut-throat or weazle, and the hoodie, have often
bloody wars with other about a piece of food they both
relish, such as the egg of a hen. Once, Squire Weazle
seemed rather too many for his hudded lordship, who flew
up into the air, thinking to get rid in that element of his
vicious opponent ; but no, the weazle would keep his hold,
fly as he would, and as high as he pleased. At length,
when they had almost got above the clouds, poor hoodie was
beheld coming owre t/ie body and ou>re tfu body to the earth ;
and, on going up to where they fell, there was the crow
lying with spread wings, quite dead, the weazle, with its
sharp teeth, having nicked the wizen, and pumped the blood
from his heart.
HooLOCH, or HuRLOCH — A hurl of stones, an avalanche.
Boys go to the heughs whiles to tumble down hoolochs,
receiving much pleasure from seeing them roll and clanter
down the steeps. It is dangerous sport though, for some-
276 HOS HOW
times they miss the balance, and make part of the hoolcch
themselves.
HosHENS — Hose without feet
Hotter — A person over-run with vermin, who hatches.
Hotter-bonnet — A person much the same as above.
HoiTLE — Any thing which has not a firm base of itself, such
as a young child, when beginning to walk; the same with
iottle,
HowDER — To hide ; also a game at saill-duddery,
HowDiE — A midwife. Midwives shine respyectable in history
from the days of Moses downward to the present day.
Anciently in Scotland, the superstitious made some observes
respecting them —
" For, Wattie*s mare stood still, and swat wi* fright,
" Whan she brought east the * hatodie* un'emight,"
says Allan Ramsay.
HowK — ^To dig.
HowM — Flat pieces of land by a river or bum-side.
How*s A* ? — A common salutation.
HowsPEAKiNG — Speaking like ventriloquists, from the belly, as
it were. Bums has death speaking this way. " He spak
right hauf, My name is Death," &c. Country folk say of
those who speak this way, " that they speak as if the soun'
cam out o* a hogyetP
HowTS — Huts. The word which sometimes prefaces one
thing, sometimes another; such as, hcnvts — nonsense;
howts — ay ; and so hmvts means a something between yes
and no, which is not easy to express.
How-wECHTs — Circular implements, of sheep)-skin stretched on
a hoop, used about bams and mills to lift grain and such
things with. See Wechts.
HUA HUM 277
HuAM — The moan of the owl in the warm days of summer;
it retires into the darkest recesses of woods, and continues
repeating, with a moaning air, ^^huamr I had some
work before I found the sound proceeded from the owl;
the people about me said, as their ancestors had no doubt
done, that the sound " was the humming o' bogles i' the
dark green wud." But I discovered the " boggles,^^
HuDD — A builder's implement for bearing mortar on the
shoulder.
HuDDERON — A dirty, ragged person.
Hugger Muggerin — Doing business not openly, quibbling
about trifles, and raising misunderstandings.
Huldie — A night-cap ; see Pimie,
Hule — Some will have hule to be a demon of some kind or
other, but I am inclined to think that " hule " is little else
but another way of mouthing hell, " His a terrible hule^
**He*s a hule's boy," and "Saw ye the huleV^ these phrases,
for instance, may all be explained by using hell instead of
hule, Hule, therefore, does not express any kind of creature,
unless that creature be a moving hell of itself.
Hum-drum — A person of careless habits ; one who pays
attention to nothing under the sun; who has no business,
and no hobbies, and who keeps the intellects in a " strait-
jacket!^
Hummel'd — Chew'd in a careless manner.
Hummock — ^The fingers of the hand, put so together by
themselves, that the tops of them are all on a level with
one another; when the hand is cold, it is impossible to
fling the fingers into this form. People in frosty weather
try who stands cold best, by the way the hummock can be
made. This word and tomack are connected, they both
mean little hillocks.
278 HUM ILL
Humph'd — Food of any kind, but particularly fresh meat, is
said to be humph' d, when it has a putrid taste and smell.
Hums — Mouthfuls of chewed matter.
Hunker-slide — ^To slide, sitting on the hams or hunkers,
down shuttles d ice, or braes, made sleek by a basking sun ;
young people slide on their hunkers,
HuRDON — A big-hipped woman.
HuRROO — A halloa. A noisy hurry started, a hurly-burly,
a hurluhrelu, as the French call it; and the Hottentots,
hurrocks ; a murmuring noise, as the sea surge on a peebly
shore. How wonderful it is to see strange tribes of man-
kind, laying hold of the universal language of nature !
HuRSON — A whoreson, a name of reproach.
Hushie-baw-Babbie — The cradle-song to babes.
HusHOCK — A loose quantity of any thing.
HussocK — A lump of hair.
Huzzy — A woman's purse.
Hyke — To move the body suddenly, by the back joint.
HvvES — Rushes which come out at times on the skin of
infants; the most dangerous hives are those which come
out in the interior. — See " Bowell-hvi^,''
I.
ICKER. — An ear of corn.
Idleset — A turn of idleness.
Ill-e'e — Some people are yet suspected of having an ill-ce,
otherwise, having an eye hurtful to everything it looks on.
Blacksmiths pretend to know of many this way, and will not
allow them to stand in their forges, when joining or wielding
pieces of iron together, as they are sure of loosing the
wauling heat^ if such be present.
ILL INJ 279
Ill-gated — To be bad inclined.
Ill-Jaw — Bad tongue, or bad things spoken with the tongue.
Ill-willy — Of a bad disposition. " Ill-willy kye sud hae nae
horns," as the Scotch proverb goes ; and which means that
" people of a bad disposition should have no hellish weapons
to work with."
Imrie — The scent of roasted meat.
Inch — Any small island, such as the ** Inch d the Isky^ well
known to wild ducks ; and " Inch Keith^^ as well known to
the natives about the Firth 0 Forth,
Ingleberries — Fleshy wens, which grow on the tender
parts of oxen ; they are of a fiery nature, which may be
the cause of them being named as they are ; when cut they
bleed profusely, and must always be seared off with a
red hot iron.
Injine — ^Genius. We say of any with a dungeon of a head,
that that person is a ^^ great injine^ Bums has the Banld
Lapraik d Muirkirk, an tnjifie^ because he was a deacon at
song making ; and I hold his son Geordy Lapraik, in London,
a worthy man, if not an injine ; he is quite a chip of the old
block, whereas the eldest son of Burns, I am sorry to say
is, no, I will not say what Our Scotch songs are all
immense flights of genius, all composed by persons having
injine: they are mostly of a melancholy nature, and this
lives much longer than mirth ; indeed, a tinge of melancholy
gilds every thing that lives long. The Duncan Grey, and
Tarn Glen, of Burns, are just humorous touches of melan-
choly, the same as Shakspeare's comedies are; this melan-
choly then, is the foundation of a poet's genius, this is his
injine, "But why seek to know (as the Swiss philosopher
says), what is genius ? if thou hast it, thy feelings will tell
what it is ; if thou hast it not, thou never canst know it. If
28o INK INW
thou art calm and tranquil, amid the works of nature, and
transports of music ; if thou feelest no delirium, no exstacy ; if
thou art only moved with pleasure, at what should transport
thee with rapture ; dost thou dare to ask what genius is?
profane not, vulgar man, that name sublime, what im-
ports thee to know what thou canst never feel." —
Rousseau — sur U mot genie, on the word genius. O ! that I
knew what it was. O ! that I had injine : but alas !
poor me 1
Inks — On muddy, level shores, there are pieces of land over-
flowed with spring tides, and not touched by common
ones, according to the laws of nature; on these grow
a coarse kind of grass, good for sheep threatened with the
rot; this saline food sometimes cures them. When
there comes a roaring spring tide before a storm, its
whirling motion washes out circular holes in the
sludge ; these are left filled with water, which soon stag-
nates, and becomes of an inky colour, but I do not think
that it is from ink the word inks arises, for all that ; such
land is called linksy in various districts of Scotland, and
I am inclined to fancy the word derives its origin firom
some ancient tongue.
Inleak — A coming in of measure.
Innerlv hearted — Of a feeling disposition.
Inns — ^Those places in many school games which the gaining
side hold; to obtain the innSy is the object of these
games.
Inring — ^That segment of the surface of a channlestone which
is nearest the " tee'^
Inwick — ^This term is somewhat different from inring; to
inwick a stone, is to come up a port or wick, and strike
the inring of a stone seen through that wick; now this is
different from a common open inring — the two are often
confounded with other, but they are quite different ; to
IRK JAW 281
take an inunck, is considered by all curlers, the fifiest trick in
the game.
Irked — ^Teased, forced to become a foe.
Irr — to call, to hunt a curr.
IsH-wisH — ^The call on the cat to her food.
Is-Kiss — ^The call on a curr-dog to his food.
J.
Jabble — ^A slight agitation of the waters of the sea, with the
wind j small irregular waves, and running in all directions :
such a state of the ocean makes open boat navigation some-
times more dangerous than if the swells of the sea were larger.
Jabbloch — Weak, watery, spirituous liquors.
Jaffled — Fatigued looking, down in body and clothes.
Jag — To prick ; jag^ng^ pricking.
Jamp — Did leap.
Jannerer — A person who ever talks, and all he says in the
course of a year is not worth a gowkspittie,
Jarble — An old tattered garment
Jaw — Insulting language.
Jawcked — Baffled in some attempt, deceived with hope,
Jawhole — A hole out of kitchens, where all refuse is
poured
Jawped — Bespattered.
Jaws — The waves of the sea, when they rush with fury
against the rocks of the shore. "Jaw," in some of the
ancient tongues, means "pour;" we use it yet for that
in ours ; %ojaws may mean a pouring out, or a wasting of
the wrath of the ocean.
28o INK INW
thou art calm and tranquil, amid the works of nature, and
transports of music ; if thou feelest no delirium, no exstacy ; if
thou art only moved with pleasure, at what should transport
thee with rapture ; dost thou dare to ask what genius is?
profane not, vulgar man, that name sublime, what im-
ports thee to know what thou canst never feel." —
Rousseau — sur le niot genie^ on the word genius. O ! that I
knew what it was. O ! that I had injine : but alas !
poor me I
Inks — On muddy, level shores, there are pieces of land over-
flowed with spring tides, and not touched by common
ones, according to the laws of nature ; on these grow
a coarse kind of grass, good for sheep threatened with the
rot; this saline food sometimes cures them. When
there comes a roaring spring tide before a storm, its
whirling motion washes out circular holes in the
sludge ; these are left filled with water, which soon stag-
nates, and becomes of an inky colour, but I do not think
that it is from ink the word inks arises, for all that ; such
land is called links, in various districts of Scotland, and
I am inclined to fancy the word derives its origin from
some ancient tongue.
Inleak — A coming in of measure.
Innerlv hearted — Of a feeling disposition.
Inns — Those places in many school games which the gaining
side hold; to obtain the inns, is the object of these
games.
Inring — That segment of the surface of a channlestone which
is nearest the "/^?^."
Inwick — This term is somewhat different from inring; to
inwick a stone, is to come up a port or wick, and strike
the inring of a stone seen through that 7uick ; now this is
different from a common open inring — the two are often
confounded with other, but they are quite different ; to
IRK JAW 281
take an inuncky is considered by all curlers, the fifiest trick in
the game.
Irked — ^Teased, forced to become a foe.
Irr — to call, to hunt a curr,
IsH-wiSH — ^The call on the cat to her food.
Is-Kiss — ^The call on a curr-dog to his food.
J.
Jabble — A slight agitation of the waters of the sea, with the
wind ; small irregular waves, and running in all directions :
such a state of the ocean makes open boat navigation some-
times more dangerous than if the swells of the sea were larger.
Jabbloch — Weak, watery, spirituous liquors.
Jaffled — Fatigued looking, down in body and clothes.
Jag — To prick ; Jagging, pricking.
Jamp — Did leap.
Jannerer — A person who ever talks, and all he says in the
course of a year is not worth a gowkspittle,
Jarble — ^An old tattered garment
Jaw — Insulting language.
Jawcked — Baffled in some attempt, deceived with hope.
Jawhole — A hole out of kitchens, where all refuse is
poured.
Jawped — Bespattered.
Jaws — The waves of the sea, when they rush with fury
against the rocks of the shore. "Jaw," in some of the
ancient tongues, means "pour;" we use it yet for that
in ours ; so jaws may mean a pouring out, or a wasting of
the WTath of the ocean.
282 JEA JER
Jeamie's hole — A very singular hole at the Borrowhtad ; it
goes right through and through a reef of rocks : the tide runs
a little way into it.
Jeegets or Shiegets — Little sounding boards, pegs and wheels,
in a piece of machinery, such as a mill. I heard an original
say once, That the head of any party was like a mill-dam^
grasping, as it were, all the little streams that flow into it, and
by lifting the sluich board when any emergency appeared, it
flowed down on the tneikk ivheel, the next head, the which
set all Xhtjegets in motion. The same worthy once made a
remark that I could never forget; he said, that the old Scottish
proverb, " whafs gude to gie is glide to keep^^ was not only-
true ; but " what was glen n'as sometimes not worth the tak-
ingy^ — though thought otherways by the giver; this was " cast-
ing an auid coat to a ////> body, but afore doing sae, to set to,
and cut the buttons out o't," which rendered the present,
indeed, not worth the taking.
But 'tis not right, as the old Roman distich says,
''auditaque lingua.
" Auget, & ex humili tumulo producit olympum,"
Englished, thus —
** Add not our what to what we hear,
"And of a mole-hill do a mountain rear."
Jennie Spinner — A toy ; also a fly with long legs ; a spinner
as the bard of Avon calls it.
Jerkins — Meetings or gatherings of people for a certain
purpose ; these are not ancient ; they have been introduced
by the Irish intruders some time ago; they are called
whiles drinkings and whiles tea drinkings, about Dumfries :
a poor woman, such as a widow, gets some tea and
whisky ; she then awakens the country to her meaning :
some fling in the mite to her jerkins, but go not thither,
as jerkins are truly meetings of the lou> vulgar; a real
Scot won't look near one of them; they are commonly
attended by full bred and mongrel Irish.
JIB JIR 283
JiBB — ^To milk closely.
JiBBiNGS — ^The last milk that can be drawn out ot a cow's
udder.
JiCKERiNG — A female is said to h^jickering when she is rather
better dressed than she should; "mair braw than she is
fine."
Jingle — To ring, or the sound that metals make when moved
together.
Jink — To make quick motions.
Jinking's Hen — A hen that never knew the cock; me-
taphorically used for an old maid — " she pined awa like
yinkin's hetiy' — saith Nicholson ; the old maids are great
fevourites of mine, but not so bachelors ; listen to a
maiden's tongue, in the Gallovidian way, of
HAUD AWA FRAE ME, DONALD.
Haud awa, hide awa,
Haud awafrae me, Donald,
Keep your hands to yoursell,
Wha can suffer thee, Donald. — Chorus.
Ye ha'e cheated mony a dear.
But ye shall ne'er cheat me, Donald ;
Ye hae drawn the sobbing tear,
Frae mony a downcast e'e, Donald.
The lassies they are sairly blamed,
For being fause a wee, Donald ;
But that ane was never named.
Could lee sae base as thee, Donald.
Afore I'd be a wretch like thee,
I'd fling mysell i'e sea, Donald,
Or tak a rape and hing me hie.
On yon auld scruntet tree, Donald.
-\nd after thou had graned thy last,
Nae corbie wad paik thee, Donald ;
The hoodicraw gude faith wad fast.
Or thy curst flesh she'd prie, Donald.
To live and die an auld {jrey maid.
Be naught to heeding thee, Donald ;
Was I a man, I'd be a man,
Sae there's the last o' me, Donald.
JiRGiNG — The noise too dry shoes make when walking
with.
284 JIR JOC
JiRT — ^To squirt
J ISP — A stain, or a piece decayed in a web of cloth.
Jock — ^John ; also a name for the bull.
JocKiE Faw, the Gypsie Laddie — A celebrated gypsie who
flourished about two hundred years ago, in the south
of Scotland. Mention is made of him in various traditions ;
and in the old song of the Annandale Thieves^ honourabk
notice is taken. However, he himself is immortalized
in an ancient ballad, in which he is the hero j which
informs us of his enticing away the lady of Lord Cassk
in Ayrshire ; the tale says he gave her a certain kind of
gingery which cuist such a glamaury over her, that she
followed the gypsie through thick and thin ; whether this
ginger was the dodgell reepan ahready spoken of, is not
known, but it had had a similar effect to it I have heard
of an herb of the daffie-dawn-dilly stamp, which, if got into
a lady's shoe, that lady will follow the herbalist every-
where; and that on its being put so once, when the lady
had to take off her shoes for the purpose of wading a river,
she changed her notion in the middle of the stream,
returned to the bank, extremely vexed with herself that she
had been so foolish ; but the moment she put on her shoes
again, the tid took her, and made her wade and return, and
wade again, until she was quite exhausted. But to my
subject — Many editions of the song of the Gypsie Laddie
have now been given the world, but was ever this one of
mine given ? Never — And I believe it to be as genuine as
any that have ever appeared : —
The gypsies they came to Lord Cassle's yet,
And o ! but they sang ready,
They sang sae sweet and sae complete.
That down came the lord's fair lady.
O she came tripping down the stair,
Wi' a* her maids afore her,
And as soon as they saw her weel fared face,
They cuist their glaumry ower her.
JOC JOC 28s
She gaecl to them the gude white bread.
And they gaed to her the ginger.
Then she gaed to them a far brawer thing,
The gowd rings af her finger.
(Qno* she) to her maids, " there's my gay mantle,
** And bring to me my pkidy,
'* And tell my lord whan he comes hame,
** I*m awa wi* a gypsie laddie."
For her lord he had to the hounting gane,
Awa in the wild green wuddie,
And Jockie Faw, the gypsie king,
Saw him there wi' his cheeks sae ruddy.
On they mounted and af they rade,
Ilk gypsie had a cuddy,
And whan through the Stincher they did prance.
They made the water muddy.
(Quo' she) '* aft times this water I hae rade,
" Wi* many a lord and lady,
** But never afore did I it wade,
** To follow a gypsie laddie."
" Aft hae I lain, in a saft feather bed,
** Wi' my gude lord aside me,
'* But now I maun sleep in an auld reeky kill,
** Alang wi' a gypsie laddie."
Sae whan that the yirl he came hame,
His servants a' stood ready,
Some took his horse, and some drew his boots.
But gane was his fair lady.
And whan he came ben to the parlour door.
He asked for his fair lady,
But some denied, and ithers some replied,
** She's awa wi' a gypsie laddie."
" Then saddle " (quoth he) ** my gude black naig,
** For the brown is never sae speedy,
** As I will neither eat nor drink,
" Till I sec my fair lady,"
** I met wi' a cheel as I rade hame,
" And thae (jueer stories said he,
** Sir, I saw this day a fairy queen,
** Fu' pack wi' a gypsie laddie."
** I hae been east and I hae been west,
** And in the lang town o* Kircadie,
** But the bonniest lass that ever I saw,
** Was following a gypsie laddie."
Sae his lordship has rade owre hills and dales.
And owre mony a wild hie mountain.
Until that he heard his ain lady say,
** Now my lord will be hame frae the hounting."
286 JOC JOC
** Than will ye come hame my hinnie and my love,
((^uoth he) to his charming dearie,
** And I'll keep ye ay in a braw close room,
** Where the gypsies will never can steer ye.*'
(Said she) " I can swear by the sun and the stars,
** And the moon whilk shines sae clearly,
** That I am as chaste for the gjrpsie Jockie Faw,
* As the day my minnie did bear me."
** Gif ye wad swear by the sun," (said he)
** And the moon till ye would deave me,
** Ay and tho* ye wad take a far bigger aiih,
•* My dear I wadna believe ye."
** V\\ tak ye hame, and the gypsies I'll hang,
*' Ay I'll make them gim in a wuddie,
**And afterwards I'll bum Tockie Faw,
** Wha fashed himself wi my fair lady. "
(Quoth the gypsies) ** we're fifteen weel made men,
** Tho' the maist o' us be ill bred ay,
** Yet it wad be a pity we should a' hang for ane,
** Wha fashed himself wi' your fair lady."
Quoth the lady, ** my lord forgive them a',
** For they nae ill e'er did ye,
** And gae ten guineas to the chief Jockie Faw,
** ¥oT he is a worthy laddie."
The lord he hearkened to his fair dame.
And o ! but the gypsies were glad ay.
They danced round and round their merry Jockie Faw,
And roosed the gypsie laddie.
Sae the lord rade hame wi' his charming spouse,
Owre the hills and the haughs sae whunnie.
And the gypsies slade down by yon bonny bum side.
To beek themsells there sae sunnie.
Jock Mulldroch — A fellow who lived at Craigiuaggie,
Galloway, once, perhaps about 150 years ago. Tradition
says that he laid eggs^ ay eggs, larger than goose eggs, and
strangely spreckled black and yellow; he used to cackle
too after he laid them, which was on a truff laft amang a
wheen breckans ; sometimes he was called Craigivaggi^ s
vieikle chuckle ; once a fortnight he is said to have produced
an egg, and his mother, after having sold a few of them as
bonny goose eggs, she set a couple of them beneath a braitf
tappend hen to clock. Long and dreich did the favourite
chucky of Lucky Muildroch sit on them before they were
JOC JOW 287
hatched; at length they chipped^ and out came two little
lads clad in green, and under the gudavif^s care they
thrave, and were well known long over the south of Scot-
land by the title of the Birlies, WillU and Wattie Birly
were well liked by every body ; they were something in the
nature of brownUs^ or rather mangrell fairies. They van-
ished away though, and after the year fortyy the year of
the lang storm ^ they never were heard of ; some think they
sank in a snaw wride, and afterwards into a Qua, — See
Quaking Qua.
Jock-tae-Leg — Jock with the ofu leg ; a large knife for kitchen
use.
JoLLOCK — Jolly, fat, healthy, and hearty.
JoRGLE — The noise of broken bones.
JoR INKER — A bird of the tit-mouse species ; its name is its
cry.
JoTTRELL — Any thing about to fall in pieces.
JouK — To avoid a blow by an active turn; also to conceal
on a sudden.
Jow — A driving sound as it were ; a swing attended with a
sound ; it is hard to express the full meaning oi jow. After
the sad battle for Scotland oi Flodden Fields when the ^^flo7vers
of the forest war a' wed away,' fought 9th September, 15 13,
on the news coming to Edinburgh next day of the disaster,
the magistrates gave out a proclamation, that the inhabitants
were to get ready their ** fensabil geir and wapponis for weir,"
and appear before them at the jowing of the common Toll-
booth-^^//. This is about the first time joaving appears in
print. Burns has the bells in his Holy Fair " began to jow
and croon," swing and sound, yow and show, I dare say
are twins ; and shcicf and shove are one. Shuggie show, a
" shaking shove."- \Vc say of the sea, whiles m a stoimy day,
288 JUG JYP
that the/tfwj of it are comings jomf^ in, rolling on the rocks
and roaring.
Juggle — ^To shake.
JuGGS — Little decanters.
JUMM — A noise of a singular nature ; it is a deep hollow sound,
which comes from the wild rocks of a seashore in the time
of a storm, when the ocean is highly agitated ; it forms as it
were the bass to a sounding surf, and is heard by a keen
naturalist to be a sound distinct by itself ; it is not the sound
of the troubled waters^ nor the sound of the hurling pedfUs^
but the sound that these combined draw out of the rocks
by striking them ; it is one of the wildest and most awful
sounds in nature ; it is just fumnty jumtn^ on a high and tre-
mendous key.
JuMMLiE — Sediment of ale.
Jumpers — Little maggots, which leap ; common in hams.
JUNDiE — ^A blow.
JuNRELLS — Large irregular masses of stone, or other hard
matter.
JUNT — A large quantity of liquid of any kind, but how largt is
not yet determined. Gowdie^ the cow, gives zjunt of milk,
but we know not how much that is, though we are aware it
is a considerable deaL Junt, too, is understood to be more
than expected.
JuRR — The noise a small water-fall makes, when it falls among
loose stones and gravel.
Jute — Sourish ale.
JUTTLE — To shake liquids.
JvBE — To taunt.
JvPLE — A person with clothes badly made.
KAT KEB 289
K.
Kail — Colewort ; also broth.
Kail-brose — A mixture of the oily scum which gathers on the
he side of the broth pot, and oatmeal.
Kailgully — A large knife for cutting vegetables.
Kailrunt — ^The stalk of a colewort ; a full-grown colewort.
Kaim-cleaners — In old houses, by the side of the fire-place,
horse-hair is found stuck in the holes of the " standards "
of wood which support the old walls ; this hair was used
for cleaning combs. A person once told me, " that there
was a bunch of hair for this purpose drilled into the hole
of an oak beam, in an old house he lived in ; and that this
hair, though frequently cut with a knife close to the wood,
soon grew out again as long as ever." From this, one may
think that oak will give life to hair : the same person said
" that if one be buried in an oak coffin, the hair won't
decay like the other matters belonging to the body, but
continue to grow." These things must be better investigated,
though I have heard that the nature of hair has puzzled able
heads.
K AIMS — Honey-combs.
Kain — Tithe-money, or money that seems to be needful to
pay.
Kauch — To be in a kaiichy to be in an extreme flutter,
not knowing which way to turn ; over head and ears in
business.
Kave — ^To clean ; to have the com, to separate the straw from
the com ; there is much art in having grain.
Keb — A blow.
Keb-Ewes — Ewes that have lost their lambs, so fattened for
butchers.
r
292 KEL KEL
Third kelpie —
Alive she is, T heard her sigh,
Bear her up in air high,
If she be a virgin blooming.
Free from art, unassuming,
Surely to her we will give
The fluid whereupon to live ;
But if she be not so,
Down the torrent she shall go,
Like the rotten sheep to hell,
None but maids can break our spell.
Fourth kelpie —
I low loving is she, fair, fair.
What locks of yellow hair ;
These are eyes none but a maid.
Ever had, ever had.
We will guard her from the storm.
We shall save her gay form.
We shall nurse her in the sun,
And round alx)ut her radiance run ;
We all know how she came
To us so devoid of shame.
Cease storms, calm your blowing,
Silence, hail, give over snowing ;
Peace be to the roaring ford.
Until again we give the word.
Kelton-H ill-Fair — This is one of the largest meetings
or gatherings of Gallovidians that are to be met with.
This fair is held on a day about Midsummer, ever>' year,
on rising ground beside the dauchan of Rhonhouse^ in the
parish of Kelton. At this fair one is gratified with a sight of
the peasantry of both Scotland and Ireland ; and here may
sometimes be lifted a tolerable idea of the Dotwyhrook
of Erin, or Ballinasioe -, at one time in danger of having
the scull bared with a cudgel ; at other times hemmed in,
as it were, with roivly-pinoly men, fling sticks , and s^veetie-
wives. Then the ears get charmed with the hoarse throats
of ballad singers, and not unfrequendy nearly rode over
with horse-jockics. And all this humbug and justling com-
bined form the best of fun ; one gets delighted. Ten-
nanfs Anster rather seems flatter than the reality, though
KEN KEP 293
sometimes we see with the drollish poet. \\Tiile the scenes
thicken, the tents get crowded ; whisky is skihed over Hke
whey; bonny lasses are to be met with, who cling round one
like binwiid ; and who would not cling to them in return,
sweet souls? For an hour or two of bustling nonsense,
then, I know of few places where it is to be had in greater
perfection than at Kelton-hill-fair.
Kend Grun — Land we are acquainted with ; yet some-
times we wander on kend grun in misty nights, and walk
fast until we entirely bewilder ourselves ; in such trying
times, it is the best plan to sit down in some dry beil,
until more light be flung on the subject. Writers, too,
when they leave kend grun, are apt to go wrong, if they
have not a genius of a vast nature to bring them back ;
they are like navigators having lost all reckoning in the
midst of a dreary ocean. Small wits, like myself, should
never launch largely out to sea, but keep dabbling about
the shores ; for if we try to flash with witches and ghosts
beyond the cloud, like Shakespeare, or soar, like Milton,
into regions far beyond our knowledge, we are apt to rue
the day we ever left kend grun. But, as 1 said when 1
began this subject, we may wander even on kend grun ; so 1
may run myself wrong in Gallinuay a land I meet ken,
Kknk — To cough, having a severe cough. Kenkhoast, the chin-
cough. To cure this, the mothers put their children through
the happers of mills, when they fancy it leaves them.
Kent — A large long staff"; also a tall person.
Kep — To intercept, so as to catch ; but the word does not go
so far as some will have it, of absolute catching ; kepping
is nothing more than "opposing and wearing;'^ " he kepped
the ball " means, he so weared in the ball with his hands,
that he got hold of it.
294 KER KER
Kermont, the Tanner — A good composer of songs,
and a Gallovidian bom and bred I believe. He is a tanner
by trade, and wrought some time at Mr. Grayson's tan-
neree, Kirkcudbright, but has removed from thence some
years ago, and gone to Newton Stewart. His songs art
very natural, and contain some good strokes of humour
1 could name twenty persons and more in the south c
Scotland who write songs, but then their effusions are s«
made up of art, that I refrain from speaking of then*
Kermont, though, methinks is an exception. His ** Lam-
mas Fair'^ is a good song, but his '•^ Laury o^ Broomy Sir"
is famous. Some say he got help to compose it, but I
do not think so. I shall give it here as a curiosity. The
song of " Cankerd King Cowan,^' \witten by an Irishmars
for a Gallovidian lay, and this song of Laury d Broom
done in the Irish style^ by a Gallovidian, are things vei
amusing —
LAURY CV BROOM, SIR.
I am, do ye hear me, a weaver to trade.
And my name it is l^uiy o' Broom, Sir,
My father he died, left me all that he had,
Hoch ! a gco:l breeding sow and a loom, Sir.
1 lived quite happy a very short space,
Thtn 1 married a wife who soon altered the case,
She black'd both my eyes, and she spat in my face.
It was tight times for I^iiry O'Broom, Sir.
I thought to myself, that this would not long do.
My passion 1 could not well smother.
So I instantly sold off my loom and my sow,
And I packed the wife home to her mother.
Being thus, then, set free, 1 for Scotland did steer,
I left the sweet place that was once to me dear.
Whilst grief in my bosom was like to go tear
The heart of poor Laury O'Broom, Sir.
On a staff o'er my shoulder my bundle I slung,
My figure was one of the oddest,
I did not know which was the right road or wrong.
But I stuck to the one that was broadest.
And at length I arrived at Donachadie,
Where I foun<l to my grief I was stopp'd by the sea.
Then I wish'd I'd had wings, like the swallow, to flee,
What a bird would be Laury O'Broom, Sir.
KER KER 295
But I got aboard of a tight little smack,
Just afraid's I'd been bound for the gallows,
Yet to keep up my spirits, I sang ** Paddywhack,"
As she toss'd o'er the turbulent billows.
At length I grew sick, and was like to go die,
My belly of meat it was empty, quite dry,
Hoch ! I lay all besmeared, like a pig in a sty,
And "A Doctor," cried Laury O'Broom, Sir.
But the winds and the waters gave over to roar,
And I mended, and jumped on deck. Sir,
Then went up the mast-ladder, to view Ireland once more,
To the danger and risk of my neck. Sir.
Tho', alas ! dear Hibernia was hid from my view,
I was damn'd to come down by the captain and crew.
Then I thought on my wife, and my loom and my sow ;
But far distant was Laury O'Broom, Sir.
Then I found out the place where the "ship's clock " it lay.
But 'twas too much for my comprehending,
I asked at the ** skipper" the time of the day.
But he, smiling, replied, she was standing.
The ** sea-travel' seem'd very lonesome to me.
Because not a mile-stone I ever could see.
Nor an ale-house to call at from Donachadie,
To cheer up poor Laury O'Broom, Sir.
At the quay of the port, then, we got to at last.
And our big flying sheets we did lower. Sir,
I thought all my perilous dangers were past.
When I got with my brogues to the shore, Sir,
A " tenpcnnie " paid for my passage, and then
I shouldcr'd my bundle and cudgell again.
Ha, honey, farewell, said the captain and men,
I'm your servant, quoth Laury O'Broom, Sir.
So the smack then I left, as you easily guess,
And took a walk looking about me,
A man he gives two or three peeps at my dress,
And thus he l)egan to salute me : —
Do you know what the " croppies " in Ireland do now.
Or whether their numbers be many, or how ?
By my soul, neither croppies nor Ireland I know,
I'm a Scotchman, says Laury O'Broom, Sir.
But quoth he, you're a croppie by the ** cut of your hair ;"
This struck me with terror and wonder.
So I instantly flung up his heels in the air,
Hoch ! I laid him as flat as a flounder.
Then ofi" I did run, till I came to Glenluce,
As frightened 's a crow, and as dizzy's a goose,
And whenever a person pec]>'d out of a house,
I'm a madman, cried Laury O'Broom, Sir.
294 KER KER
Kermont, the Tanner — A good composer of songs,
and a Gallovidian bom and bred I believe. He is a tanner
by trade, and wrought some time at Mr. Grayson's tan-
neree, Kirkcudbright, but has removed from thence some
years ago, and gone to Newton Stewart. His songs an
very natural, and contain some good strokes of humour
I could name twenty persons and more in the south c
Scotland who write songs, but then their effusions are si
made up of art, that I refrain from speaking of then*
Kermont, though, methinks is an exception. His ^^ Lam-
mas Fair^^ is a good song, but his ^^ Laury <f Broom, St'r"
is famous. Some say he got help to compose it, but I
do not think so. I shall give it here as a curiosity. The
song of " Cankerd King Cmuan^* written by an Irishmar
for a Gallmidian lay, and this song of Laury d Broom
done in the Irish style, by a Gallovidian, are things vei
amusing —
LAURY CV BROOM, SIK.
•
I am, do ye hear me, a weaver to trade.
And my name it is I^ury o* Broom, Sir,
My father he died, left me all that he had,
I loch ! a gcoA breeding sow and a loom, Sir.
I lived quite happy a very short space,
Then 1 married a wife who soon altered the case.
She black'd both my eyes, and she spat in my face,
It was tight times for l^iiry O'Broom, Sir.
I thought to myself, that this would not long do,
My passion 1 could not well smother.
So I instantly sold off my loom and my sow,
And I packed the wife home to her mother.
Being thus, then, set free, 1 for Scotland did steer,
I left the sweet place that was once to me dear,
Whilst grief in my bosom was like to go tear
The heart of poor l^ury O'Broom, Sir.
On a staff o'er my shoulder my bundle I slung.
My figure was one of the oddest,
I did not know which was the right road or wrong,
But I stuck to the one that was broadest.
And at length I arrivetl at Donachadie,
Where I found to my grief I was stopp'd by the sea.
Then I wish'd I'd had wings, like the swallow, to flee,
W'hat a bird would be Laury O'Broom, Sir.
KER KER 29s
But I got aboard of a tight little smack,
Just afraid's I*d been oound for the gallows.
Yet to keep up my spirits, I sang ** Paddywhack,"
As she toss VI o'er the turbulent billows.
At length I grew sick, and was like to go die,
My belly of meat it was empty, quite dry,
I loch ! I lay all besmear'd, like a pig in a sty.
And ** A Doctor," cried Laury O'Broom, Sir.
But the winds and the waters gave over to roar.
And I mended, and jumped on deck. Sir,
Then went up the mast-ladder, to view Ireland once more,
To the danger and risk of my neck. Sir.
Tho', alas ! dear Hibernia was hid from my view,
I was damn*d to come down by the captain and crew.
Then I thought on my wife, and my loom and my sow ;
But far distant was Laury O'Broom, Sir.
Then I found out the place where the ** ship's clock " it lay.
But 'twas too much for my comprehending,
I asked at the ** skipper" the time of the day,
But he, smiling, replied, she was standing.
The "sea-travel' seem'd very lonesome to me.
Because not a mile-stone I ever could see.
Nor an ale-house to call at from Donachadie,
To cheer up poor Laury O'Broom, Sir.
At the quay of the port, then, we got to at last.
And our big flying sheets we did lower. Sir,
I thought all my perilous dangers were past.
When I got with my brogues to the shore, Sir,
A ** tenpennie " paid for my passage, and then
I shoulder'd my bundle and cudgell again.
Ha, honey, farewell, said the captain and men,
I'm your servant, quoth Laury O'Broom, Sir.
So the smack then I left, as you easily guess.
And took a walk looking about me,
A man he gives two or three peei>s at my dress.
And thus he began to salute me : —
Do you know what the ** croppies " in Ireland do now.
Or whether their numbers be many, or how ?
By my soul, neither croppies nor Ireland I know,
I'm a Scotchman, says Laury O'Broom, Sir.
But quoth he, you're a croppie by the ** cut of your hair ;"
This struck me with terror and wonder.
So I instantly flung up his heels in the air,
Hoch ! I laid him as flat as a flounder.
Then ofl" I did run, till I came to Glenluce,
As frighlcneil's a crow, and as dizzy's a goose.
And whenever a person peej)'d out of a house,
I'm a madman, cried Laury O'Broom, Sir.
296 KER KER
Being wearied at last tho*, I stopp'd at an inn.
The head public-house in the place. Sir,
I popp'd in to the parlour, and called for some gin.
The people stood all in amaze, Sir.
So I told I was a nobleman's son in discriise.
But the landlady told me my story was Ties,
Sweet Paddy for ever, the landlord he cries,
And out he kicked Laury O'Broom, Sir.
From that hell of a shop, then, I soon did dismiss,
And thought on my loom and my sow, Sir,
My wife, tho* the devil, was nothing to this.
And a sigh from my bosom she drew, Sir.
The scenes of my youth then came fresh in my miml.
My little turf hut, where once happiness reigned,
Hoch ! Fortune thou'rt fickler far than the wind.
How ye change with poor Laury O'Broom, Sir.
My spirits, however, I keeped up still.
And pass'd o*er the wild Corse o' Slakes, Sir,
A fellow came up and cried ** clean Kelton-hill,"
We went into a ** tent," soon, of stakes, Sir.
The whisky came round, there I drank and I sang.
The boxing began, and the cudgells they rang.
And right m the stomach I got such a bang,
That hearted poor Laury O'Broom, Sir.
But soon I came to, and my mother o' the sloe,
I whacked about with my might. Sir,
And or I knew rightly a friend from a foe,
My wrists were in u\efiiptre eighty Sir.
So some then did kick me, and some did me trail,
I wished that my coat had been a coat of mail.
So snugly just here in Kircubrie's old jail.
At last they've got Laury O'Broom, Sir.
Iloh, Fortune, you've blown me a damnable bla^t,
And my folly you near make me rue, Sir,
I wish I was o er the " long bridge o' Belfast,"
Again to my loom and my sow, Sir.
For hunger at home and a day whiles of strife,
Between a poor boy and a hell of a wife,
Are innocent things to a rambling life.
What a witness is I^ury O'Broom, Sir.
So much then, and perhaps too much, of Laury
O'Broom, Sir. I never could catch a very correct coj)y
of this stave, so was compelled to add words and lines of
verses as I went on, to keep the sense together; and at
the last I was obliged to ask my own wayward muse for three
full verses.
KIB KIL 297
Kibbling — A rude stick or rung. Some put great value
on a favourite staff ; listen to the Irishmatfs Address to his
Cudgel —
Sweet mother of the sloe,
Iloch ! where did ye grow?
On the banks of the lovely Ban-uTiter ;
By the hoakey, the like of thee never was carried,
Six years have I with ye now thumped an<l harried,
A dozen, sometimes, in a fair I have scared
With thee, just as hard's I could batter.
In Dublin's big town
You were very well known.
Some sculls I have there with ye cracked ;
From morning to niglit, I've taken delight,
In joining and bruizing away at a fight,
Hoh, Barney, the boy, was up to the slight
Of wielding thee well, he saved, he smacke<l.
With thee in my hand.
Not a wench in the land.
But I durst go catch in a twinkle ;
Where was the bulley could keep her from me,
When determined was I that with me she should be ?
Who the devil could stand many downers from thee ?
You i)lay'd hell with a chap's periwinkle.
Few matches for thee,
In Erin there be.
But, for my countrie's sake, be there many ;
Ciive an Irishman whisky ; O ! rare Inishone,
That would warm and would soften the heart of a stone,
And a cudgel, like thee, then let him alone.
For, few dare oppose him, if any.
KiLCH — A side blow ; a catch ; a stroke got unawares.
KiLLiCK — The flue of an anchor ; the mouth of a pickaxe.
KiLLMAN — The man who attends to the kiln in a mill.
These are commonly very honest men, well Hked by the
lasses. Mark the song —
Weel, uncle, I shall never wed
The Cameronian Hill-man,
But ril rin haffers wi' the bed
O' Watlie Broom, the kill-man.
For W^attie is a worthy lad.
And fu' o' warly skill, man.
The ithcr j)rays and 's waur than nmd,
He's nacthing like the kill-man.
298 KIL KIL
Nac gate an erran' I wad gang
Mair soon than owre tae mill man,
For than I'd see or it was lang,
My blythsume lad, the kill-man.
In the killogie, wi' his arms
He clasps me till I thrill, man ;
His seedie ingle finelv warms,
Whanere he steers t the kill-man.
In love he rows me ay about,
I let him kiss his fill, man ;
His goodness ay I never doubt,
He's nae take in, the kill-man.
And tho' he tovvsles me right aft,
He never means nae ill, man ;
He's daft about me, and I'm daft.
About my darling kill-man.
Yestreen, I met him, biyth and gay.
He splat a whusky gill, man ;
And spak about the wadding-day.
Right seriously the kill-man.
KiLLOGGiE — The fire-place of the kiln.
KiLLRAVAGE, OR CuLLRAVAGE — A mob of disorderly persons,
either engaged in scenes of savage and actual devilry, or
intending to be so.
Kilt — Proper method, right way, or right thing. We say of
such a one that is not properly up to his trade, that he has not
the kilt of it, and of those who well understand what they are
doing, that they have the kilt dt. Can this word, and /'///, a
loose garment, be one ? I know not : probably, tlie High-
land clans long ago used the phrase, " ye have the kilt o't^' to
those of the same tribe or dress with themselves, and those
who were not, of course had not the kilt of it The following
tolerable verses were composed in a church, on seeing a
country man asleep while a priest (who had not the kilt of
])reaching), was holding forth. Probably kilt and kef it — to
know, are one : —
Whae'er ye be that taks ye'r naj),
Aside the pulpit bink,
Maun surely Ije a happy chap,
Maun surely rightly think.
O ! could I fa' asleep like thee
I wad be unco glad.
Or, were my lugs but stulTd awce,
I >^ad na be sac bad.
KIL KIL 299
For, O ! I'm tortured wi* a gomf,
Wha's gampin like a ha]f-hang'd dog,
lie weel deserves i* the arse a yomf.
Or some as illfar'd shog.
I true, he has mistaken his trade.
To learn to preach and pray,
To \ye a priest ne ne'er was made,
Nor ne'er will ony day.
0 ! this is really sad sad wark.
For Godsakc, say nae mair.
Ha, yet ye bow and maunt and bark,
What hearer is na sair.
1 sec/rieft IVillie's glide red wig
Has an uneasy seat ;
The Dukf 0* Kent doth yawning lig,
And burn with wrathfu' heat.
Ay. a' wha are dear nature's frien's
Are wearietl to the bane.
Ilk way they sit, their flesh complains.
And sauls within it grane.
We're no a squad that's ill to please,
A silly cheel Is fit,
A wee hotch heavenward will us ease.
To meikle we'll submit.
But \vull awuns ! what can we say,
'Bout thee, thou awsome gow,
A mass thou art o' saulless clay,
A boss croon 'd foozie frow.
A pity 'tis that we should l)e
Sac troubled wi' the bash.
And that we dare get nane but he.
And his slim senseless trash.
O ! patronage, this is thy crime,
Sae sorrowful to tell.
Cam ye frae regions high, sublime ?
Nay, ye cam out o' hell.
And there the sooner ye win back.
For Christians 'twill be best.
Then, chcels wha ought to wear the black.
Will come and gie us rest.
Snore on, snore on, my happy saul.
Just like a stocking-loom.
And see to deavc this dranting drawl,
Which comes frae haunis sae toom.
Was ance I out o' this kirk door.
They'll sec weel, sees mc back.
For this place I cannot endure
Wi' patience on the rack.
300 KIL KIN
I'll read my buik upon the hill
Ilk Sabbath-day that's clear.
And try mysell vvi* heaven to fill,
And never mair come here.
Now Lord be thanked that his gab
Is fairly closed for ance,
Up come alang, my snorkin Rab^
And let us douTi the trance.
Kilted — Clothes furled up on the body are said to be "Xv//^^."
Kiltie — A spawned salmon ; they are then very lean.
KiMMER — A gude-wife.
KiMMERiNS — The feasts at births. These, the ^^ KtmmerSy'
or gude-wives, have to themselves, no men are allowed to
partake along with them.
King and Queen o* Cantelon — A chief school game.
Two of the swiftest of the boys are placed between two
doons^ or places of safety ; these, perhaps, two hundred yards
distant. All the other boys stand in one of these places or
doonSy when the two fleet youths come forward, and address
them with this rhyme —
** King and Queen o' Cantelon,
** How mony mile to Babylon ;
** Six or seven, or a lang eight,
** Try to win there wi' candle-light."
When out, they run in hopes to get to Babylon, or the
other doon, but many of them get not near that place before
they are caught by the runners, who taefis them, that is,
lay their hands upon their heads, when they are not allowed
to run any more in that game, that is, until they all be
faend or taken. This sport has something, methinks, of
antiquity in it ; it seemeth to be a pantomime of some
scenes played off in the time of the Crusades. -King and
Queen o' Cantelon evidently must be King and Queen d Ca/e-
don, but slightly changed by time. Then Babylon in the rhyme,
the way they had to wander, and hazard the being caught
by the Infidels, all speak as to the foundation of the game.
King Galders — (Jn the farm of Cairnholh\ in the parish
of Kirkmabreck, stands a rarity, the large stone coflin
KIN KIR 301
which held the body of a king, which tradition calls ** AV/?^
Ga/ders.** It is at the present day, just as it has been all
along ; such a weighty concern has preserved it from being
removed. Around the tomb are many stones of various
lengths standing on end.
Murray, in his history, refers to the account of a A'/>/^
Galdus^ by a person named Sympson, and that his tomb is
beside the Blednoch waten The two kings must be one,
and how it comes he has two tombs, I cannot say ; the two
places are many miles distant. Galders was probably a
Dane, and the conjuncture that Galloway derived her name
from him, is not unlikely.
KiNTRA-CLASH — The bad news with the few good astir in the
country.
KiNTRA-coosER — A human stallion ; a fellow who debauches
many country girls.
KiNTRA-siDE — That part of the country any one lives in, is his
kintra-side.
Kip Cairns — An original of a very rare cast, and I am sorry
that I have not got enough about him, to enable me to have
a dash at his character. He was laird of a farm called Kip^
but the law and smuggling brought him to sell it ; he died
in indigence, and his death was lamented all over the land
of Galloway ; he is not yet forgotten by a great many. And
if any who knew him well would take the trouble to publish,
in a little book,
" The Anecdotes d Kip Cairns;'
That book, I may prophecy, would repay them ten per cent
Come friend " Alorrison d Fellen;' put thy " bunch "
through the presSy or send them to me, for thou alone canst
do justice to Kip Cairtis,
KiRKCORMOCK — An ancient Gallovidian parish, like Dun-
roddan, Gatah^ Senwick, Kirkandros^ and others. The
302 KIR KIR
names of such only remain now, and their kirk-yards^ with
perhaps the ruins of the auld kirk. At Dunroddan, \hQ fount,
which heid the holy water, is yet to be seen in a fine state of
perfection ; a blacksmith lately thought it might answer him
for a troch, so introduced it into his smiddy ; but a worthy
kirk-yard antiquary, whom I and many others could name,
restored it to its ancient situation ; the kirk-yard of Kirk-
cormock is worthy of remark, on account of an old troch stane,
three feet by two therein ; to translate its inscription was no
small trouble, the characters being of old runic stamp, and
the language Latin. " Honorabilis Sir Patricius Maclellana
qui obit anno M.DXXXIV. anno XVIII. ^tatis." This
gentleman seems to have been one of Maclellans of AuMane,
by a daughter of Herries, the second Lord Henries, who died
(the lady) in the same year ; had the stone not been broke
through at the middle, and otherways mutilated, more of its
inscription might have been gathered In this kirk-yard
there is also a little tumulus, but lately much injured by a
planting of young trees. O ! ye moderns, have mercy on the
memory of your ancestors.
KiRKCUBRiE — Kirkcudbright Not only the metropolis of
Galloway, but a curiosity of itself, so it therefore lays dou-
ble claim to my attention, though 1 am not going to say
much about it. That it is ancient ; that its name comes from
St Cuthbert ; that it now is a place containing from two
to three thousand inhabitants ; that though on a fine na-
vigable river, it has little trade ; these, and other things
are all in print already, and I print nothing over again if
I know it But few, perhaps, are aware, that Willie
Wallace used to ship from this place to the court of
France. South of the to^^^l is his camp ; this royal bo-
rough has many bonny lasses in it ; shall I name a few ?
No, names are odious ; though, were I to do so, they would
get husbands in a handclap; there are also some verv
KIR KIR 303
social men in it, with whom I have spent some happy hours,
but there are foolish men in it also, and many very fond of
drink, termed tipplers ; and, like all little places, it is full of
scandal, what not ; but on the whole I have never loved any
small town so well as Kirkcubrie.
KiRKiNG — That ceremony of attending the kirk the first
Sabbath after marriage ; to the modest this is the most trying
concern in the matter, and commonly the man blushes
deeper than the woman; she seems quite uplifted, having
caught a husband, but not so he^ because he has got a wife ;
a number of friends and relatives generally attend the young
fcnc'k on these occasions; the bride comes forward /I'/iked or
hulked, in the bridegroom's best man^s arm, and to this party
are directed all eyes in the church. What a nonsense in
truth is to be borne with, before an honest man can enter
the matrimonial state. I could wager, that in the space of
twenty or thirty years, gieing up the names, crying, kirking, &c.
will be all dead and damned, like the cutty stool ; as so they
should, for where is their use ? and the evil attending them
is great; in this age of light, the church laws in Scotland
keep many from marriage, for what is worse to endure than
foolish ceremonies ? they do well enough when the eyes of
the mind are glazed with ignorance, but now they will not do
at all. I would not go through with them, as they exist at
present in my native kirk, were I sure to gain the loveliest
and richest female in Britain.
KiRK-LADDLES — The laddles or implements elders use in rustic
kirks, to gather the bawbees the congregations bring with them
for the poorfo7vk,
KiRK-STiLES — The stepping stones people walk over church-
yard dykes on. At these places, of course, the greatest
crowd generally stands, on Sabbath days ; there the bonny
lasses shew themselves with their best braws on to the youn^
cheels, and they in return flash before them their watch seals,
braid claith, neat baws, what not, which is returning love for
304 KIR KIR
love ; by degrees the flames bum brisker, so that many have
cause to both bless and rue the day, they ever met un itJur
at kirk-stiles,
KiRNiE — A little pert impudent boy, who would wish to be
considered a man.
KiRNiNG — Churning. The art of making butter ; the upstaning
kirn is but little used now for that purpose, only those who
have little cream make use of it ; the barrle and box kirns
have quite displaced it But still the doughty wife of Auchter-
muchties will be well understood ; yes, even though we
adopt the South American's method of churning. About
Buenos Ayres, says my famous wanderer, Sawnie the Sailor,
green hides are sewed together in the form of a large bag ;
the cream, or ratherly die whole of the milk, is then poured
in, for there is no cream on the milk in warm countries -, this
bag, when about full, is tied with a rope to a horse's tail,
which drags it scampering through the streets, until by agita-
tion it becomes coagulated.
Kirns — Harvest sports, after harvest is concluded ; also,
the last hookful of grain that is to be cut, is called a kirn ;
who to cut this is a great matter; the rip left is three
plaited, the reapers range back a few yards, and fling at it
with their hooks, and he or she who flings, and cuts it, is
accounted the cleverest in the boon or bamtnin. That, at
the dancing atcen, he or she wears in the hat or bonnet
like a soldier's feather, the whole of the night, beautifully
busked with ribbons of various hues. Afterwards it is
hung up in a conspicuous part of the house, and given to
Bill yock, the king d t/ie Byre, on Auld Candlemas-day,
so that none of the kye, the incoming year, may be guilty
of picking-caitve. Ranting kirns are now bid farewell to
Galloway almost; refinement and the inroads of low Irish
reapers, are the cause ; anciently the famous laird d Sen-
7vick used to send for a fiddler out of Dumfries, to give
KIR KIR 305
music to his kims, a distance of thirty miles ; this was run-
ning the matter to a high pitch.
KiRNSTAFF — That long staff with a circular frame on the head
of it, used anciently, when "upstanding kims^^ were
fashionable.
KiRR — Blythe, cheerful, &c.; a person so inclined is said to
be a kirr body.
KiRSENiNG or Crisening — Christening, the ceremony of
baptism ; to these, large parties are invited, and feasting and
fun are the result ; the sketch of a curious scene, seen at
one of these meetings, runneth thus —
At a kirsening yesterday down in the glen,
War assembled a possey o* crouse honest men,
Wha cracket their jokes, and discussed the wather,
For a frost some wad wish, for a thow some wad rather.
"Whan the job was got ower, the grave ceremony,
The tea was set down on the table sae bonny,
The faurls and the kebbuck, the butter and ham.
The hinnie, the short-bread on ither did cram.
The cups round the trays in their orbits war placed,
A couple o' track pots the system weel graced.
What a glorious sight, see the kettle a reeking.
The winsome gudewife a' the needfu's a seeking.
Wi* his kindness the gude man is ay in the gate,
He fain wad assist but the body is blate,
He canna weel sit, and he canna gae rise.
What a fHjrtrait is his, between doubt and surprise.
Draw in ncru^s the word, while ilk mou* ran wi' water,
Come draw round the tahle^ clean changed the clatter,
The priest meikle swankie declined the chair,
Sae 'twas a gye bout to get ony else there.
His seat it should be on the lid o' a chest,
Pretendmg to act like the humblest guest.
But watch how he'd look'd had ony neglected,
To hand him alike wi' their comrades respected.
Mair wark about him there maun be than 'bout fifty,
Wi' flethering and serving to keep him in tift ay.
His jokes maun be laugh d at, tho' not worth a doit.
And ilk tale he tells is an unco exploit.
At last every gossip has got to its station,
A grace is a drawlmg to grace the occasion,
Whilk ended, adown sunk the black-garbed boss.
On the lid o' the worm-eaten chest wi' a soss.
But it proving frail for his corpus sae gravid,
Down, down it did crash, and his feet ill behaved,
Up aloft quick they drave, causing sic an erruction,
Owrewhelming the truckery a' wi destruction.
U
3o6 KIT KYT
The teacups in air were like pearies a turning.
The scaud they contained was the company burning.
What waistcoats and breeks were a screeding and ripping.
Some down and some up, near the na*el were a stripping.
The blushiony blisters on briskets and thees.
Soon started and spread by alarming degrees.
The priest was haurl'd out wi* a gye deal o' trouble,
Frae whar he lay jam't, like a sack in the double.
The gude wife kend hardly what way she should look.
Her husband thought ance faith on " taking the book,"
But bottles o' whusky and some o' gude gin.
War tum'd into toddy and brought raeming in,
A^Tiilk welcomer company, soon grew to be,
Than a fat foolish priest and a spoutroch o* tea.
Kith — Acquaintance.
KiTTiE — A common name, or rather an universal one, for all
cows ; witness the strange old rhyme —
There was an auld man stood on a stane,
Awa i' the craft his leefu' lane,
And cried on his bonny sleek kye to him hame.
** Kitty my Mailly, Kitty her mither,
" Kitty mj Do, and Kitty Billswither,
** Rangletie, Spangletie, Crook, and Cowd rye,
** And thae war the names o' the auld man's kye " —
Legendary Wallet »
Kittle — ^To tickle ; also, to bring forth kittens.
KiTTS— Vessels for holding water.
KiVAN — A covey, such as of partridges.
Knackuz — A person who talks quick, snappish, and ever
chattering.
Kn APING — The talk of a knackuz^ one ever on the catch;
whutthroat fuffing^ confab of weazles.
Knap o* the Knee — The lid of the knee.
Kythe — To look like ourselves. To seem just what we are,
without any guile or hypocrisy ; to do so is honesty. And
" An honest man*s the noblest work of God."
LAB LAI 307
L.
Lab — ^To be intoxicated.
Labb — The sound of the waves of a summer sea, as they sweetly
kiss the rocky strand.
Lade — Load, also the stream which drives a mill.
Lady o* the Meadow — A sweet smelling plant, with a cream-
coloured flower, which grows in meadows.
Lae — Leave.
Laggan — Fatiguing, beginning to weary.
Laggans — Dresses for the legs.
Laggies — A name for geese; laggief laggief is the call on
geese.
Laggin — ^That part of a wooden vessel, in which the bottom
rests.
Laggin-gird — That gird round the " lagging' or " staps^^ which
compose the sides of the bottom of any vessel ; this gird is
always considered the chief one about wooden vessels
Laigh-fiel — Low lands, the reverse of the moor lands ; thus
we say a Laigh-fiel farm ^ a Laigh-fiel lass^ &c.
Laird — The lord of a manor ; some of these are the best,
and others the worst characters in Scotland ; who has not
heard of Laird IViggietaussock ? his lands lay on the Solway
shore. Greedy as the grave was he, his gourmand imagina-
tion saw an island off his shore a little way, once in seven
years. Thus would he describe it : — " O I it was a bonny
big isle ; I saw gran swankies o' nowt on*t, feeding on
rough claver fiels ; rare com growing too, every stack o*t
as thick as my wee finger, and ilka head wad hae filled my
gowpins. Apple trees I saw there, wi* apples hinging
swagging on them like warping clues, the haleware o't
seemed to be gran plowable Ian. I cud hae made sillar on't,
like sclate stanes." (Then would he add) — " O ! if I had
3o8 LAI LAI
got a spunk o' kennelling on*t it wad hae become my ain -,
the Manxmen's Isle was ance enchanted the same way,
but a spark o' fire lighted on't ance frae out a sailor's pipe,
broke the charm, whilk has hinner'd it to sink mair; but
war a' the fires at ony time to gang out, it wad just
gae whar it was again ; ance they went a' out but ae wee
bit gleed in Zuxy, and faith, the Isle o* Man was begun to
shog and quake."
Mine reverend original, Nathan M^Kie, was once obliged
to leave his rural abode, the Manse d Bauimagie, and go to
Ix)ndon on some importint business ; his friends in the
mighty metropolis were glad to see him, and introduced
the worthy eccentric everywhere, as a piece of great
curiosity. A young German lady, hearing of Nathan^ in
some of her gay circles, wished very much to be some
evening where he was, to see the rare Scotch clergyman, the
which wish she was soon gratified with ; after chatting with
the strange man, in rather a saucy way, she asked him if he
knew " what kind of an animal a Scottish laird was ?" adding,
at the same time, that she had " read Buffon, Linnseus, and
other naturalists, without finding any satisfaction." Nathan
turned his queer phiz towards her, and quoth — (giving
himself a hursle or tiva at the same time) — Wi* faith, madam,
I'm nae great naturalist either, but I believe a Scottish laird
to be an animal unco like your petty German prince a hame,
in being baith damned /^<?r, and 2^% proud, ^^
Lair'd — Stuck in mire. The Moorlands in particular are
full of dangerous places for animals to sink in ; these seem
green and inviting, but no sooner are they entered upon than
they are found to be all a deception.
"I set af tae Moors ance (quoth a Lowland farmer), to
buy a wheen fogging eutes ; I had the Mall mare aneath
me, the best stump o' a beast ever I had ; owre ae hag
after anither I rade, and crossed mony a garry, till every
bane in my body was sair."
LAI LAI 309
" My chief moor house was Drummruck ; there was I steer-
ing, when down sunk the Mall mare wi' a snore, in ane o*
thae green flow bogs ; I gaed on tae tap o' a hie hill, and
waidd wi* my hat, and in less than a quarter of an hour ten
herds, wi' twice as mony dogs, gathered to me : we gaed
down tae mare, puU'd, and better pull'd ; I dare say we had
to draw her near hauf a mile, afore we cam to steave grun.
" The poor brute was a* racked to pieces, and never was
like the same beast after. I gaed the lads shillings a
piece, and ane I gaed hauf-a-crown to, to guide me to
the road that led hame. Sae I gat back again, but if ever
I ride sic anither fool erran, it will be de'ils queer to
me.
Laird Cowtart — Or the obstinate man. His proper
name was y antes Coltart ; he was a labouring man, as I am
told, the greater part of his life ; and whether he became
heir to a little house and garden in the suburbs of Kirk-
cudbright, or obtained it by his own honest industry, I
. know not; however, a little laird he was, and went the
most of his days under the name of Laird Cowtart, He
was the most attentive man to his word ever known in
Galloway. \\Tiat he at any time said, that he would have
abided by to the last For a trifling wager, he sat the
length of a summer day once on the " rigging of a barn,''
with his face to the wind, not flinching an inch from Bo-
reas; at another time, for a similar bet, he sat upon a
brow for a whole day, and gazed directly at the sun; no
eagle ever looked Sol so boldly on the face. There was a
merchant in Kirkcudbright, of the name of Harris, who
sold groceries ; this person and the laird once disputed
about something, and our obstinate man said "he would
purchase nothing out of his shop more, nor allow himself
to taste of any of his wares." The laird's >*ife, however,
who knew nothing of her husband's determination, bought
some candles from Harris ; on their being used for lighting
3IO LAI LAI
up the house, the good man inquired of her, " where she had
bought them?" on being told from Harris, he spread his
grey plaid between the candle and him, in order to keep him-
self out of its hateful light. Another time the mistress pur-
chased from this merchant some barley for the broth ; the laird
knew not of the matter till he had dined on the said broth ;
so in his stomach they should not remain, he raged about, and
there was no peace in the house, until the laird had disgoi^ged
what of them he had swallowed, every ^^ groatJ* He used to
make " beeskeps^' in the evenings, when his day's work was
over, that's to say, his " day's 7vork " with those with whom
he was employed; once while so engaged, out before his
door in the open air, the wife came and called him to sup-
per ; he said '^ he would come if she did not call him again,"
the wife forgot though, came out after a little, and called
James to come in to his " champed potatoes /" — "ay, ay, gude
wife," he exclaimed, " ye hae done for me now ; " as usual he
held by his word, and amused himself sitting out all night
Being challenged once, coming through a field, by its tenant,
that he had no right to come that way, the laird said, " his
feet should never touch the grass of that field more ; " some
of the laird's fellow-labourers heard of his determination,
and bore him into the field by force ; there he lay on his
back with his feet up in the air, and roared and cried so
mightily, that they were obliged to bear him out of it
again. I could multiply specimens of obstinacy, this way,
for a long time, and give many of his singular sayings, but
these may suffice ; he drove a mule in a little cart long,
and many thought he and the mule were a " dead match ; "
he was always considered to be rigidly honest, was well
liked, and the good family of Selkirk was all along veiy kind
to him.
Laird o' Cool's Ghatst — We have not a more popular
tale or pamphlet in Galloway, than the one bearing the
title of this article. The Laird d Cool flourished about
LAI LAM
311
one hundred years ago, in the parish of Buittle; he was
proprietor of a farm therein, called Cool^ and how he became
so was never rightly known ; it is the belief of all, however,
that there was foul play in the matter, either by getting wills
and deeds signed by dead men's hands^ or some such way.
When this laird left the world, as other men do, his ghaist or
ghost J returned soon after ; was seen by many stegging about
the estate, like a thing in trouble, to the terror of the people
about; it was frequently seen sitting down on a stone, termed
a cool stane ; at length the priest of the parish would lay htm,
a thing of the most serious nature in those days ; the ghaist
gave him the reasons why it could not remain in darkness for
the deeds it had done when in the flesh ; all of which crimes
the priest promised to remedy, if it would trouble the land of
light no more; so, by praying and circumscribing circles with
cauk and keel^ the terrific task was accomplished, the laird's
ghaist sank into the earth, and has never more burst the
cerements of the tomb.
Lairing Staff — A staff used by herd boys to drive the flocks
to their lair ; sometimes it is tenned the lairer.
Lameter — A cripple. The dialogue of two beggars, who met
once on a country-cross road, ran thus : — " What's come o*
daughter Mary, now?" quoth the one to the other ; " Mary?
she's married," was the reply : and " wha has Mary gotten ? "
added the inquirer ; " a braw horsecripple^ answered the
mither " Weel done Mary ! (said the other) we maun hae
a blaw o* the pipe owre that thegether."
Lammas Spates — ^Those heavy falls of rain, common about
Lammas or Midsummer. Farmers who live by the banks
of waters^ prepare themselves against the falling of these
spates or spouts, by removing everything out of the river's
way ; that though it swells, and comes foaming down, it
can do them no injury ; not rob them of their winters
fodder.
312 LAM LAW
Lamper Eels — Eels, common in spring wells during summer ;
they are so much like horse-hair, that the folks think it is
hair alive ; they even put hair in the water to see if it will
become lamper eelsy but I have never knowTi the trial to suc-
ceed It is wonderful to examine these lampreys^ to see they
are things of life, and seemingly without either head or tail;
cut them in twenty pieces, each piece is just a little eel,
having the same motions, be it one inch, or be it ten in
length.
Lan-en' — The end of ridges.
Landin — Landmg. Ending with a " set^' at shearing, cutting
through from one side of the field to the other.
Langles — Manacles. Home-made fetters.
Lang Megs — A name for a species of long apple.
Lang-nebbed — Having a long beak, bill, or nib; "Gude
preserve us frae a' witches, warlocks, and lang-rubbed things ;"
this is one of the greatest wishes of the country people ; they
consider that some of the beings of the nocturnal world have
sonsy snouts^ like powder-horns. Words too, in the English
tongue, difficult to be understood, are said to be lang-nebbed
or double-breasted ; sometime ago at country schools, when
the scholars were learning to read the buik^ whenever they
came to a cramp word to pronounce, the Dominies bade them
call that 2i Passover, and " syneskelp awa^ It may be added
too, that some of those windy terms in the nomencktures
of our modem sciences, are truly lang-nebbed, and may be
made passovers by sensible men.
Lappels — The folds on the front of a coat.
Lapper — Snow in the act of melting. Lapper*d, curdled.
"The milk sits tapper' d in the dirty coags," saith poor
Bob Fergusson, as bright a young genius as ever sang on the
earth. " The tapper' d cluds conglobe and roll," saith another
author — perhaps myself.
Law — A high hill.
LAY LEE 313
Laying Ghaists — When ghosts showed their pale faces in the
days of yore, the ministers of the word laid them by praying;
that is to say, they described circles, stood within them
(for over the circumference of a circle no ghaist durst pass),
and there they addressed the foul spirit until it sank into
the earth; they then crossed the place with Hnes, which
hindered them from rising any more.
Awa, awa, thou fearfu' ghaist,
Flee hence and ne'er return,
In thy dark chaumer there gae rest,
Lae us and boggle bum —
Auld sang.
Laying Sheep — The art of putting greasy matters on sheep, so
that they may be kept warmer through winter. See the
article Sheep-smearing,
Lead o* the Ice — A curler's phrase, and means the bias
of ice. Many, however, when they do not play well,
ascribe their bad success to the unevenness of the ice ;
man, generally speaking, being loath to take a fault to
himself
Lead the Ice — Another curler's term, being the order given
to the first player, when about to play ; also to any player,
when stones are in the direct way to the " tee^
Lee — ^The ashes of green weeds, such as breckans ; when
burned, gude wives use it in bleaching; also, lee^ to lie,
to tell fibs or untruths; and also, lee^ a place surrounded
by hills, an open space, yet sheltered fi-om almost every
blast What for a song, is
THE SHEPHERD OWRE THE LEE.
Awa frae me now Sawnie lad,
And dinna fash me mair.
We a' ken weel your purse has gowd.
And that your heacl has lair ;
But for your si liar and your lair,
I dinna care a flea,
My love is Tam the shepherd boy,
Wha whistles owrc the lee.
314 LEE LET
Pair cheel he canna gab like you,
Nor's cled in sic braw claise,
But what he sa)rs is sweeter far,
And ay his dress does please ;
He is the darling o' my heart,
And ever mair will be,
My bonny, merry, shepherd boy,
Wha whistles owre the lee.
The morning whan he climbs the hill,
The laverocks to him sing,
And round him do the paitrics trip.
And mawkins skip and spring ;
They a* luik blyth at my dear Tam,
But no sae blyth as me,
For he is my lovely shepherd lad^
And whistles owre the lee.
O ! happy is the sailor lad.
Whan he comes aflf the sea.
And wi* his bonny lassie meets.
To kiss and crack a wee ;
But wha can happier be than me,
Aneath the hawthorn tree,
Wi' my cheerfu*, harmless, shepherd lad,
Wha whistles owre the lee.
Leemers — Nuts which leave their husks easily.
Leese — ^To arrange, to trim, to sort, &c.
Leesh — A piece of tough string.
Leesh-fallows — Tough strong fellows.
Let on — A phrase, meaning " the giving a hint of any thing ;"
never " let-on^'' we say to those whom we wish to keep secret
some little thing we have told them ; that is to say, not to
hint the matter to any other*
Lettered-Craigs — In various places of Galloway, large crags
are to be met with, having very ancient writings on them,
some of which the antiquary deciphers, but others not ; one
of these, in the farm of Knockiebay in the Shire^ has cut
deep on the upper side —
** Lift me up, and I'll tell ye more."
Many people have, in separate years, as time rolls on,
gathered to this rock, and after much labour, have suc-
ceeded in lifting it up, with the hopes, no doubt, of
LET LEW 315
being well repaid for their trouble with the treasure beneath ;
but how must they have been deceived, when, instead of
finding any gold, they find wrote on its ground side,
'* Lay me down as I was before."
It must have been no small wag in the days away, who
invented this. On another, in a neighbouring parish, this
strange inscription is found cut —
** This stane lies on auld Robbings wame,
*' His purse and his stafT are aside the same,
" If thou thinks this wrang, tak the stane af my waroe,
** And lay it on thine to preserve thy name."
Saumers M^Clurg^ the old innkeeper, at Blednoch Brig^
about eighty years ago, allowed almost every kind of
wildness to go in his house, except fighting; and when-
ever any rustics started a coUieshangie^ Sawners reached
for a thick sticky he kept up in the brace, and being a very
strong man, stood up and gave the ground one thump with
it, saying, quietness is best; when quietness instantly took
place. At last, when he went the way of all men, a
friend laid a rude rock on him, with this epitaph deeply
engraved on it —
** Beneath lies Sawners M*Clurg,
** Enjoying his quiet rest,
** When he was alive he ay said,
** Quietness was best"
This inscription nearly pleases me as well as that one a
fellow blabbed carelessly out, on his master, who offered
fifty pounds, to him who should write the best thing on
his grave-stone : —
"Here lies Billy Knox,
** Wha lived and died like ither folks."
So he cheated many a learned poet.
Leug — A tall, ill-looking man.
Lew — A heat. Stacks of com are said to take a **/«i'," when
they are built, not being dry, when they heat.
Lewre — A long pole, a lever.
3i6 LEZ LIN
Lezie — ^The name for Elizabeth.
Lights — The lungs of an animal.
LiDDERiE — Feeble and lazy.
LiDED — Mixed, thickened, &c
Lift — ^A term much in use at rustic funerals ; let us lift,
say those people at these occasions, when they have had five
or six services ; which means, let us lift the corpse and be
going, for we have had enough, though it is well known
not to be come to that time yet, and that all they want
by repeating often, let us lift, boys, is to have another
service^ or round of bread, cheese, and whisky, so that
when lifting time comes, some of those drunken and
gormandizing mourners can scarcely lift themselves, never
speaking of being able to lift others. To lift a brae, is
to ascend a brow. Lift, also means the whole of the sky,
that can be seen at once ; anciently, says tradition, the
people fancied that there were some mighty persons far
above the firmament, who had alwa)rs in lift, as it were,
the whole of the celestial regions, and who hindered tlie
clouds and heavenly bodies from absolutely falling on
them, and that they carried the clouds from place to place,
as they thought fit; hence the word carry; these were
the times when " spirits came on the blast," and ruled the
whirlwind and the storm.
Liggett — A reclining gate — fi"om lig, to recline, and gate;
they must recline, or they would not close of themselves ; they
are hung on what is termed a hangrell ; in the holdstone at
the foot is a bot to turn on, called a bot-stane ; the long bar
which crosses the others obliquy, is the sord.
LiNCLUDEN — A venerable old college in ruins, standing
on the lovely banks of Nith, a little above Dumfiies. —
Francis Grose, in his Antiquities of Scotland, takes notice
of it, but as he has not spoke about matters to be met
LIN LIN 317
with at this place, respecting Galloway, it becomes me to do
so. On entering the chancel, one is struck with awe and
wonder, at seeing the remains of ancient grandeur, of the most
beautiful workmanship and decoration ; what first attracts
notice, is the tomb of Margaret, eldest daughter of King
Robert the Third, sister of the gallant King James the. First,
(who was cruelly murdered at Perth, by his uncle, cousin, and
others, who were his confidants) and wife of Archibald, fourth
Earl of Douglass, and first Duke of Touraine in France, (who
was slain at the battle of Vemuil, 17 th August, 1424, and lies
buried in the church of St. Gratian, in Tours, the capital of
his duchy). Margaret was alive May, 1426 ; over the tomb
is inscribed, in Gothic characters —
Jl Taibc be gitu.
" Hic JACET, Ana Margaretta, regis Scocie, filia
QUODA COMITISSA DE DoUGLAS AnA GaLWIDIE ET VALLIS
Anadie."
Her tomb-stone, which has no inscription, is lying
broken in the grave. This tomb is beautifully decorated
all round and over the top ; in the midst of the decora-
tions is the representation of three large chalices or cups,
intermixed with a heart and three stars, the arms of the
Douglasses ; the former from the heart of Robert Bruce,
entrusted to the good Sir James ; and the starsy by marriage
with the heiress of Bothwell, in the person of Archibald,
the third earl, commonly called the grim. On the left of
this beautiful tomb, which should be told, is on the north
wall of the chancel, is a door much ornamented ; over
it is cut out the hearty stars, and lion rampant; the
latter, the arms of Galloway, of which the Douglasses were
lords. On both sides of the wall in the chancel are many
shields, some with arms, some plain ; but in those having
arms, the lion, heart, and stars, prevail ; over one of the
shields, and cut out on the south wall, (supposed to belong
3i8 LINT LIN
to Stewart of Bonkill^ is a scroll, with a few words in
the Gothic or Saxon character, but which stands so high
that it is impossible to decipher the inscription with
a common ladder; on the whole, this college is a noble
old pile, and worthy of walking a long summer day to
see. What holy emblems and inscriptions there are
about it ! — the Three in one, surrounded by a glory, viz.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, with the words /esu
Christiy frequently appear; also Mary and the Child,
with the seven wise men kneeling before them ; and, ac-
cording to the Golden Legend^ the two first figures of this
group seem armed. I may add, that Margaret, mentioned
already, daughter of King Robert the Third, whose husband
was Archibald, the fourth Earl of Douglass, was nick-named
jyne Man, from the many battles he tyned or lost, and his
general unsuccess ; he was wounded at Hamilton, and taken
prisoner by Hotspur Percy ; refused to be delivered up to
King Henry the Fourth. This and other bad blood was the
pretence for the Percy rebelling, where defeat attended them,
and where Douglas was made prisoner by Henry the Fourth,
1403. It seems, the inscription was made before either
Maggie, or her grim husband died ; as he had the gift of the
duchy of Touraine, April, 1424, and fell in battle, August the
same year. Now, the wife was alive May, 1426, for at this
date she had a charter — " To Margaret, Duchess of Tour-
aine, Countess of Douglass, Lady of Galloway and Annan-
dale, of the lordship of Galloway, as possessed by Archibald,
Duke of Touraine, and Archibald de Douglass his father,'*
according to Wood's Peerage, page 427. But I am sick of
dates and learned antiquity, as I can extract no fun out of
them ; however, I am the devil's own drudge when I set
fairly to.
Lingle-Back — Having a long weak back.
Linked — Persons walking arm in arm, are said to be linked or
huiked.
LIN LOI 319
Links o* Peats — Each division of a peai-stack, is called a
link ; so the stack is made up of links.
LiNGED — Lashed, beaten, &c.
LiNTiE — A linnet ; also, a sweet young child.
LiNTSTRAiK — A head or handful of new-dressed flax.
LiPPiN-Fu' — Brimming full to the lips.
LiRK — A wrinkle, a crevice.
LiTCH — To strike over.
LiTH — A joint ; also, one of those divisions of an orange, or
onion, of which they are composed.
Loaning — A road which has a dyke on either side.
LocHiNBRACK-WELL — A loch scarccly worth the speaking
about, was it not for the famous mineral fountain beside it ;
the waters of which are of a strong chalybeate nature, good
for removing pains in the stomach, and other complaints,
which causes it in the proper season to be well attended by
invalids ; and if there were more houses about it than are,
the larger, doubtless, would be the company. The lack
answers well for the waterers to fish in, while the moors
around are inhabited by grouse, and other moor fowl.
Loch Skeroch — A large, wild, loch, to the north of Galloway,
famous for its scythe sand. This is found on the beach of
the lake, and is wrought of grey-stones, in the lake by the
waters ; it is sold in shops during the mowing season, at
about twopence the Scotch pint
LoDDANS — Small pools of standing water.
Loggie — A fire in a snug place, or a snug place for a fire.
Loggwater — Luke-warm water.
LoiTS — Those liquid drops, which leap out of pots when
they are boiling, and scaud those persons seated round the
ingle.
3i8 LINT LIN
to Stewart of Bonkill^ is a scroll, with a few words in
the Gothic or Saxon character, but which stands so high
that it is impossible to decipher the inscription with
a common ladder; on the whole, this college is a noble
old pile, and worthy of walking a long summer day to
see. What holy emblems and inscriptions there are
about it ! — the Three in one, surrounded by a glory, viz.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, with the words /esu
Christiy frequently appear; also Mary and the Child,
with the seven wise men kneeling before them ; and, ac-
cording to the Golden Legend, the two first figures of this
group seem armed. I may add, that Margaret, mentioned
already, daughter of King Robert the Third, whose husband
was Archibald, the fourth Earl of Douglass, was nick-named
Tyne Man, from the many battles he iyned or lost, and his
general unsuccess ; he was wounded at Hamilton, and taken
prisoner by Hotspur Percy ; refused to be delivered up to
King Henry the Fourth. This and other bad blood was the
pretence for the Percy rebelling, where defeat attended them,
and where Douglas was made prisoner by Henry the Fourth,
1403. It seems, the inscription was made before either
-^^ii^j or her grim husband died ; as he had the gift of the
duchy of Touraine, April, 1424, and fell in battle, August the
same year. Now, the wife was alive May, 1426, for at this
date she had a charter — " To Margaret, Duchess of Tour-
aine, Countess of Douglass, Lady of Galloway and Annan-
dale, of the lordship of Galloway, as possessed by Archibald,
Duke of Touraine, and Archibald de Douglass his father,"
according to Wood^s Peerage, page 427. But I am sick of
dates and learned antiquity, as I can extract no fun out of
them ; however, I am the devil's own drudge when I set
fairly to.
Lingle-Back — Having a long weak back.
Linked — Persons walking arm in arm, are said to be linked or
huiked.
LIN LOI 319
Links o* Peats — Each division of a peai-stack, is called a
link ; so the stack is made up of links.
LiNGED — Lashed, beaten, &c.
LiNTiE — A linnet ; also, a sweet young child.
LiNTSTRAiK — A head or handful of new-dressed flax.
LiPPiN-Fu' — Brimming full to the lips.
LiRK — A wrinkle, a crevice.
LiTCH — To strike over.
LiTH — A joint ; also, one of those divisions of an orange, or
onion, of which they are composed.
Loaning — A road which has a dyke on either side.
LocHiNBRACK-WELL — A loch scarccly worth the speaking
about, was it not for the famous mineral fountain beside it ;
the waters of which are of a strong chalybeate nature, good
for removing pains in the stomach, and other complaints,
which causes it in the proper season to be well attended by
invalids ; and if there were more houses about it than are,
the larger, doubtless, would be the company. The lack
answers well for the waterers to fish in, while the moors
around are inhabited by grouse, and other moor fowl.
Loch Skeroch — A large, wild, loch, to the north of Galloway,
famous for its scythe sand. This is found on the beach of
the lake, and is wrought of grey-stones, in the lake by the
waters ; it is sold in shops during the mowing season, at
about twopence the Scotch pint
LoDDANS — Small pools of standing water.
LoGGiE — A fire in a snug place, or a snug place for a fire.
LoGGWATER — Luke-warm water.
LoiTS — Those liquid drops, which leap out of pots when
they are boiling, and scaud those persons seated round the
ingle.
320 LON LOU
LoNKOR — A hole built through dykes, to allow sheep to pass.
I have no idea where this word is derived from ; probably
from the same source as loan,
LooF-BANE — The centre of the palm of the hand.
LooFFiE Channlestanes — When curling first began, it was
played by flat stones, or ioofies ; these are yet to be found
in old lochs.
LooFiES — Plain mittens for the hands.
Loot-down — To stoop down.
Loup the Bullocks — A very rustic sort of amusement
Young men go out to a green meadow, and there, on " all
fours^^ plant themselves in a row about two yards distant
from each other. Then he who is stationed farthest back in
the ^^ bullock rank^ starts up, and leaps over the other
bullocks before him, by laying his hands on each of their
backs ; and when he gets over the last one, leans down
himself as before, whilst all the others, in rotation, follow his
example ; then he starts and leaps again.
But what makes this fun of a bullock or brutish description,
is the severe tumbles the leapers often meet with ; for that
bullock is considered the most famous of the ^^lurd^* that
can heave up the " rurnp " highest and smartest, when the
leaper is going over, and can launch him on his nose, to the
effusion of his blood on the meadow ; yes, much " claret " to
use the slang of pugilists has been spilt, and many wrists
sprained at this work.
I have sometimes thought that we have borrowed this
" recreation " from our neighbours of the " green isle," as,
at their " wakes " they have a " play " much of the same
kind, which they seem to enjoy, called *^^ Riding Father
Doudr One of the " wakers " takes a stool in his hand,
another mounts that one's back; then, ^^ Father Doud''
LOU LOU 321
begins a rearing and plunging, and if he unhorses his rider
with a dash, he does well. These Irish wakes must surely
be very singular frolics. There is another " play'* at them
called ^^ kicking the brogue" which is even ruder than
" Riding Father Daud;" and a third too, behind neither of
them in rustic madness, called ^^ Scuddieloof" These
rough concerns originate from a hatred they have at too
much melancholy ; for, when the parents, or other friends
of the deceased, see a person at the "wake" dull, and sit-
ting sorry-like, they get displeased, and will say, " VV^hy
came ye here to mourn for one that's in Heaven?" At
these meetings all are made welcome, and a Scotch stranger
is adored. Much whisky is drank at them, and plenty of
tobacco smoked. Amongst the lower orders of the people
there is no scene like a ** wake." And to see the relations
of the defunct Papist retiring, one by one, now and then,
and talking and asking questions at the cold corpse, really
bespeaks a terrible ignorance and gross superstition. If
the deceased has left behind a wife, then will she lean
over her breathless husband, and go on with her tongue in
the following manner, rocking her body to the words she
utters : — " And o ! Bamie, why are ye gaen to lave me ?
what harm did I to ye, Bamie ? I never struck ye, nor
slighted ye ; the loom will stand toom now, for the want o'
ye, Barnie ; and how will I get out the wcbt and how
shall I get turf for the fire, Barnie 1 O ! why man did
ye lave me," and so on. Then the daughter Bridget, or
the son Morgan, will go and make their wail, perhaps, in
a similar manner. But this wailing gets into howling on the
day of the funeral : like the natives of some savage nations,
they follow the bier, giving out shrieks and howls that
are heard miles off. " Oho''^ is sounded on a thousand
different keys. The priests generally attend the funerals of
those who die in their parishes, and this attention is for
the sake of their purses, as all their ''^attentions" are.
322 LOU LOW
When they come to a "cross-road," or any thing like a
^^ cross,'' the corpse is laid down on the ground by the
bearers, and set up at " aunction " by the priest. " And
who will give me most for the sake of this man's saulV^
will he say. Then one will bid three-pence, another
perhaps five-pence, and a third may probably give a penny
more, which six-pence his reverence pockets, and tells his
poor infatuated followers " that this will help the deceased
through purgatory y A corpse has been known to have
been " set up " by a priest ten different times on its way to
the grave. When the interment of the body is over, the
priest returns to the " Bitrial housed' and scares by his
words the ^^ spirit'' of the deceased away, which is
thought to linger behind about the ^^ eazles d t?u house]'
and other strange places. He then regulates the ^''beads''
of the family, puts all the " saints " in order ; and if, as
before fancied, it has been a man that death has taken
away, the priest, for common, passes the night with the
widow woman, and trims her ^^ heads''* in secret But I
am falling into my wandering system, digressing a little, to
expose strange truths ; truths that I have fallen in with
while dipping into the manners of the rustic world, and
may be firmly depended on to be strictly true. To give
the rude manners of Erin fair play, I may some day soon
put through the press a small treatise, written about them
entirely.
LovEANENDiE — An exclamation, " O I strange."
Lowe, the Poet — A person about whom a great deal has
been written and said, and for what reason I have never
rightly known. He is held up as being the best poet that
ever sang in Galloway. Far be it from me to take any
thing from his character; yet I cannot help saying that 1
think more notice has been taken of him than he deserves.
His whole fame as a poet rests on the song of " Man\
LOW LUC 323
weep no more for me ; " and it is doubtful whether ever he
composed a line of it. I met with an honest man once,
who told me "that he knew an old woman who sang it
long before Lowe was born." Lowe had the merit, how-
ever, of singing and making it popular at his singing
schools; and let him be the author or not, still the song has
nothing very original about it There are ten times better
songs, the productions of Galloway bards, and not a word
about them. However, Fame trump away ; stop not one of
thy blasts for Lowe, for a >^Tetch like me.
LowNE — Calm, not windy ; be loiane, speak in a low voice.
Lowping-on-Stanes — Stones common about country inns for
getting into carts, or mounting horses from,
Ix)wsNESS — A laxness, purging, &c. ; ** to be fashed \A^ a
lowsness," means not to be costive. I have heard of priests
preaching themselves into a lowsness, for the sake of saving
sinners. Poets, too, rhyme themselves whiles into thig
state ; really men of genius should be wary.
Luce — A blue matter which is scraped off the face in
shaving.
Luchter — An handful of com in the straw; some reapers
are better than others at rowing luchters ; that is to say better
at rolling a neat handful of grain when they cut it.
LucKiE — A canty old woman, neither young, nor dead old.
YOUR SERVANT BIRKBUSH.
My dear Lucky Clink, come now alter thy plan,
Ye know what I mean, you're beginning to blush.
Come be clapped and squeez'd by anither bit man,
The bachelor body, Your Servant Birkbush.
Long have I courted thee, Lucky, my love,
Long have I made a most desperate push,
And a honeyblob ay, unto me ye doth prove,
Then clasp to thy bosom, Your Servant Birkbush.
Tho* mine hair now be grey, Lucky, yet I am young.
As supple as whalebone, as straight as a rush,
Mine nerves like a youth's about twenty are strung,
He*s as merry's a mautman, Your Servant Birkbush.
324 I^UC l.UI
0 ! but your heart, my kind deary, is warm.
How lovely ye talk, and can sing like a thrush,
\Vas I made of ice, thou hast beauty could charm.
And make him run mad. Your Ser\'ant Birkbush.
1 never yet found ye, sweet Lucky, inclined
To give me a sneer, mine affections to crush ;
But I always observed, that you fully designed
To wed sometime soon, Your Servant Birkbush.
Now ye sit by my side, this is pleasure indee<l.
Now ye give me a kiss, I am all in a flush.
My pulse moveth now at a cantering speed.
What enjoyment is this, to Your Servant Birkbush.
I'm o'erpowered'd, scarce another bit thing can I say.
Lie still then, my tongue, all my gabbling hush.
To morrow, I'm told, will be my wedding-day.
Then hooh, cockabendie. Your Servant Birkbush.
LucKPENNY — The cash which the seller gives back to the
buyer, after the latter has paid him? it is given back with
the hope that it may prove a lucky bargain.
LucKRASS — ^The name of a cross-grained, cankered, gudewife.
LuGGiE — The horned owl.
LuiKiNG the Grun — When a farmer starts in the morning,
staff in hand, and collie at his foot, then clambers up one
hill and down another, seeing how his cattle are faring,
how his labourers are going on, how his crop looks, and
how the weather appears — this job is called luiking the
grun. If he has taken too much whisky on the market-
night, he throws the spring-wells in his range, while luiking
the grun. And though he should leave his wife, sweet soul,
by the skreech d day, she rather out of good humour, and he
with a confounded sair head, proceeding from the effects
of taking the wee drap ; yet after this delightful exercise,
he will return full of health and spirits, and meet with his
spouse up and bustling amongst the affairs of the household,
as busy as a bee, and as happy as the day is long. WTiat
wonderful scenes have nature opened up to me whiles,
when luiking the grun !
LUM MAC 325
LuMMiNG — The weather is said to be lumming when raining
thick ; a lutn d a da}\ a very wet day ; the rain is just com-
ing lumming down, when it rains fast ^. This word and loottt^
a mist or fog, are of kindred.
LuNiESHOTT — The loin bone gone'out of its socket.
LuNTiNG — Walking and smoking a pipe.
LuRDAN — An extremely lazy woman ; an abominable female.
LuscAN — A sturdy beggar, and a thief. iCluscan was lodged
once in a farm-house in the parish of Minniegaff, and thought
proper to walk off in the morning with the bed-clothes,
which had been given him to sleep in during the night ;
but he had not long made off with his booty, before he was
bewildered in a misty day; so our luscan wandered, and
knew not where he was going ; he still kept walking on,
however, and when evening came, a house appeared in view,
so he would go in and seek quarters ; but what house was
this but the very one he had left in the morning? and what
gudewife did he meet but the one he had robbed? The
scene dumfounder'd the wTetch, and stcarfd him so, that he
could not utter a word.
Lye — Pasture land about to be tilled ; ploughmen talk about
the lifting of a tuich lye with as much concern as statesmen
do about nations, or astronomers about other worlds.
Lyse-Hay — Hay mowed off pasture land, and not off meadows ;
this hay is more difficult to mow than any other kind, for
it has what mawsters call a matted sole, which racks the
shouthcr-blades in cutting it, and makes the boutings short to
a sharp.
M.
Macdiarmid— John M*Diarmid, Esq., Editor of the "Dum-
fries and Galloway Courier," a gentleman well worthy a
326 MAG MAC
place in my never-failing Encyclopaedia ; for ever since he
became connected with the south, as a journalist, he has
behaved himself like a man of honest genius. He has
reported many good original things, and his ears have never
been shut to the calls of real merit, for which he is and long
will be well liked all over Galloway. The rustic poets around
have ever found him leaving a corner to their service, and
many have availed themselves of sporting the muse on that
esplanade. The most prominent of these have been the
Reverend Mr. Gillespy, of Kells, a gentleman surely a very
good poet, but just rather too refined for my taste (I am
fond of hearing the rude sough of nature). Mr. Malcomson,
of Kirkcudbright, has also given us some good verses on
Tears and Snawdrops; while Mr. Millar has sung " Mamma,
Mamma^^ very prettily, and the scenery seen from the tap o
Criffle, But the hero of this article is a better poet himself
than any of these. Behold his talents directed this way in
the early numbers of Blackiuood, when he was allowed to be
the first orator, except the Ettrick Shepherd, in the forum of
Auld Reekie. His Scrap Book, too, evinces that its author
knows good composition from bad; while his Life of
Coiiper, the darling English poet, is a biographical sketch
rarely gone beyond, and could not have been written by
any but a person of similar taste : such is the honest
fact, as felt by me ; the world, though, may speak for
itself. In dressing up an account of a Rood Fair, a S7C'ol-
len Nith, a Burns' Anniversary, and such things, our
thor has great merit ; he gives ihem that natural touch
which mightier pencils could not pourtray. He has also
been the means of helping forward to notice a merchant
in Dumfries, a Mr. M'Vittey, the same person, I suspect,
who sang the battle of Dryfe Sands, and who published
Tales for the ingle-check, a little while ago, which are
thought by me to be fair wark. So much then for Mac-
MAC MAC 327
diarmid, and this much will often be read when he and me
are no more.
O ! the pleasures poets feel,
When they do ride a sound Pegasus,
With daring front and nimble heel,
What hobby-horseman them surpasses ?
A brave Pegasus, that doth scorn
To tramp the path ere trod by any.
Even tho' its own should seem forlorn ,
Devoid of sweets and beauties many.
And will not yield for deserts drear,
With whirling sand and thorny bramble,
Will snore through stormy seas 'thout fear,
And o*er the hugest mountains scramble.
Nor turn aside for tempests black,
For savage gales, unpitcous howling.
Nor for the forest grim put back,
Tho' bloody tigers round be growling.
But bear along its rider strange,
Through worlds where curious tribes are swarming.
Where scenes delight to hourly change.
From something wild to something charming.
Fly, where balloons can never fly.
Sail, where no ship can sail, nor shallop,
Fling far behind both earth and sky.
And through celestial regions gallop.
So may he sing the glowing song.
The song that sets the heart a weeping.
That manly song by nature strong.
Which never lalls a nodding, sleeping.
But groweth like the summer rose,
The root being in the human bosom.
How can it wither? still it blows,
And bloometh in eternal blossom.
Mactaggart — This is no less a personage than myself,
born some twenty-five years ago, at Plunton, in the parish
of Borgue, quite beside the auld castle d Plunton, The
Friday night before Kelton-hill fair was the night in
which I, gommerall yohnic^ first opened my mouth in this
wicked world. My father is a farmer, and throughout my
pilgrimage on earth, from the cradle till this moment, I
have never met with any whom I considered had so much
native strength of intellect, l^t no man say of me, that
328 MAC MAC
I am a creature of ability, for such would be wrong ; but
that my worthy parent is, and to a great degree, is right;
his father was also a farmer, and my grandfather's grand-
father got his head cloven at the brack d Dunbar^ fight-
ing in the Highland army against Oliver CromwelL The
name Mactaggart comes directly from the Gaelic, as all
names beginning with Mac do. Mac^ a son, and tachart^
a priest; signifying, the son of a priest God knows if
there be much of a priest about me. My father rented
the farm of Plunton from Murray of Broughton, and this
being at the outskirt of the parish, my lot was cast three
miles from the parish school. A half grown boy was there-
fore brought into the house to teach my sisters and me the
A, B, C, for I had then two sisters older than myself; though
1 was the oldest of the boys. There were eleven of us
altogether once, six boys and five girls ; but I have lost two
dear sisters. Well, this boy taught and lashed us occasion-
ally. I mind of being happy when the harrowing came on,
as my father required him to harrow the ploughed land in
the sowing season, and not us. A neighbouring farmer
became partner with my father in this dominie^ so one part of
the year my sisters and me went to this farmer's house, and
were taught along with his family, and they came to us in
return. While at this work, coming home one night I
tumbled into a peat-hole^ and should have been drowned, had
not my sisters been with me; they /laurfd me out, and so
saved a valuable life from perishing in glaur. At length my
sisters were thought strong enough to go to Borgue academy ;
the teaching boy was set adrift, and I being only six years of
age, was allowed to remain happy at home, as not thought
able to accompany them. So I ran about and hunted butter-
flies, built little houses on brae sides, and adorned them with
bleached j)eriwinkle shells, brought to me from the shore ;
I also waded in a burn that ran by beside the house, and
neived beardocks. 1 had no companion but a hoolet\ this
MAC MAC 329
was brought me when young from the auld castle ; I fed it
with mice, but it found the way to an old sooty trufflaft^
and there caught plenty of mice for itself; one day it came
down from its reeky habitation, to wash itself, having need
enough of that ; and while doing so, in a tub by the door-
cheek, a cock came the way, and sank its deadly spurs into
the scull of my poor hoolet ; I mourned about this many
a day. At last I was thought fit to go with my sisters
to school, and then again begun my woes; nothing could
I learn. I was begun to the Latin long before I knew any
thing almost of English; as the order ran in these days,
" one could not be put to the Latin too young." Of a
truth then I was put young enough to it, but could learn
nothing about it I was lashed upstairs and downstairs,
and was saved, I believe, from dying an unnatural death,
by my parents flitting from Lennox Plunton, to the farm
of Torrs^ in the parish of Kirkcudbright A country
school lay just beside us, we had only a hill to go over to
it ; the master taught the scholars no Latin ; this was a
great thing to me ; he was quite an easy, soothing teacher,
a good counter^ and could read and write pretty well.
With him I began to learn somewhat I begat an affec-
tion for arithmetic, and was soon the best hand amongst
figures in the school, going through all the count-books
that came before me, like smoke. In truth, Mr. Craig is
an excellent teacher ; he gives nature fair play ; he lets the
scholars pursue their own inclination, be that what it will.
If I have any learning, or any genius about me, to this man
am I indebted for their improvement Had he been a
dominie who gave out tasks, who obliged the scholars to
learn this, and then that, who made a slave of the mind,
when in its tender state, and who valued the feelings
nothing, I, Mac, would never have been heard of. I
should have crawled about, a mean artificial worm of man's
formation, without one sj)ark of nature's fire about me.
330 MAC MAC
Whenever a fox-hunt^ a shipwreck^ a bofispeil, or such thing
happened in the neighbourhood, the school was flung open
to all who wished to run and see ; and I, for one, seldom
stayed behind. Indeed I was looked on as rather a careless
boy of my book^ spdUd heucJis for gulI-cggSy and trees for
young craws ; went a fishing frequently ; attended all raffles,
tea-drinkings, fairs, and what not Wherever there were any
curious sights to be seen, there was I ; nothing would have
kept me from them : but as I got older I met with fewer
novelties. My father, thinking from my habits I was
learning but little at the country school, (being fond of read-
ing nothing but ballads and histories, as they came to the
house in the wallet of the hawker), sent me to the academy
at Kirkcudbright, a distance of four miles; this I had to
go and come every day. During winter I could not get
to it very regularly, with bad weather; and in spring and
harvest, when a throng was about the farm, I had to stay,
or rather I was fond to stay, and lend a hand. For all,
when the examination came on, I laid all the school below
me with the mathematics, and so obtained the premium.
Being nothing, however, but a mathematician, the rest of
the boys laughed at me ; so I would go and learn French.
I attended this an hour every day, but could not learn
it, because tasks were laid out I now, in my thirteenth
year, took a huff at schools and schoolmasters altogether,
leaving them both with disgust At this my parents were
displeased ; however, they let me take my own mind of it,
and as I now had to work at little jobs about the fami, I
soon relished this life not very well either ; so I would
learn a trade: a mill-7uright was thought a good one,
and a ship-carpenter, but I would go and bind myself to
neither ; that of a book-pri?iter pleased me best of any ; I
wrote to the firm of Oliver and Boyd, Edinburgh, stating
the matter, and my wish to become an apprentice. My
letter was never answered. I wrote again to Fairbairn and
MAC MAC 331
Co. in the same city, aiid to Mr. Jackson, Dumfries, but
never received any answer from either, which caused me to
grow very dull. It was about this time that I began to feel
a melancholy working in on me, which I will never get rid of.
I may here mention though, that ever since that night on
which my mother told me that there would come a day on
which I should die^ and be covered up with cold mould in a
grave, I have been rather haunted with thought \ it gives the
young mind a dreadful shock on being first made acquainted
with this awful truth. Finding, therefore, myself worsted in
getting to be a printer, I consoled myself with my lot, and
became extremely bookish inclined; and, as the old song
goes —
** I bought and borrowed every where,
*' I studied night and day,
** Ne'er miss'd A%'hat Dean nor Doctor wrote,
** That happen'd in my way."
I began to the French again by myself, and soon could
translate it, and the Latin too. I got hold of a dictionary
and Virgil, and pondered away the long fore-nights, A
friend who lived in the neighbourhood had an Encyclo-
paedia Britannica; this I was given whenever I wanted a
volume ; and I must own I have received no small benefit
from this kindness. I gathered ten times more out of that
book than I did at the College of Edinburgh ; a place to
which I started on foot, staff in hand, when in my nineteenth
year. Before this time I had taken a ramble through Eng-
land, had been often in love, had wrote poetry, and the devil
knows what. I have rhymed since ever I remember, but I
keeped dark. After passing a hard winter in Edinburgh,
attending my favourite natural classes, reading from libra-
ries, writing for magazines, and what not, I returned to the
rural world in the spring ; and the next winter I went back to
Edinburgh, but not to attend the college, though that was
the ai)parent motive. I never received any good from
attending the University. I was there told nothing but what
332 MAC MAC
I had before gathered. But I am running this sketch too
far; let my Edinburgh adventures, my wanderings through
Scotland, my learning the engineering, my trip to London,
my rebuffs from Fortune, and my receiving them kindly, my
finding an independent way of making an honest livelihood
with industry, &c &c. form the subject of another foolish dis-
course at some future period.
When I reached my twenty-first year, the following poetic
coin my muse cast forth from her mint, inscribed —
MAC IS MAJOR.
Now A/ac, upon the Soloway shore,
Whar seamaws skirl and pellocks snore.
And whilks and muscles cheep ;
Whar puffins on the billows ride.
And dive adown the foaming tide.
For sillar-fry sae deep.
Puir cheil his ane-and-twentieth year,
He entereth upon.
My merry days are past, I fear.
And sad anes comine on —
Nae matter, Til batter
As weel's I can through life,
Ay dash on, and brash on.
Throughout this wardly strife.
Thanks to thee, Death, wi' a' my heart.
For hauding back thy wutter'd dart,
Sae lang frae stanging me ;
The smapox, meazles, and a fever.
Ye let me through 'thout seeming ever
To wuss that I sud dee.
I hope yc'Il let me yet awhile.
Wild nature's warks admire.
And up Parnassus twaV three mile,
Clim' till 1 lag and tire —
For thinking, and clinking,
Hae ay been a' my joy,
And stringing, and singing,
The foolish laddie's toy.
To dauner by the craigie felLs,
Amang brown fog and heather bells.
Or roun the lanely shore ;
And there to croon the feeling sang,
Warm frae the heart no unco lang,
I dearly do ailore.
MAC MAC 333
WTiile glowering al the azure sky.
And loomy ocean's ure.
Which Phoebus makes whan he is dry,
Thrang sooking waters pure —
Contente<l, and scented
By blooming flowers around,
What pleasures, and treasures,
I thus hae aften found.
There's mony a wanton minor laird,
Wi' frothy haums and goarling baird,
Wha langs to be my age ;
Sae that he just might hae a fill,
Without being curbed o' his free will.
His passions wild that rage.
That he might ope the sillar stores,
Collected aff the grounds.
And flash the same mang winking whores,
Trig flonkies, horses, hounds —
Ay lashing, and dashing.
As fast as he cud ca.
Ne'er thinking — but drinking,
And florying awa.
But Hoch-anee, to humble me,
Nae gowden hordes collected be,
That I may smack al>out ;
And see the warl and a* its games.
To lewdly lie wi' Paris dames.
And blaw a rotten snout.
Or in the parliament to gab,
A fulty, feckless story,
Fu' fit to give the yaws or scab,
To either whig or tory —
Unpestered, sequestered.
Deep hidden I remain.
Whiles sawing, whiles mawing.
As seasons come again.
O, endless is the farmer's toil,
To rake the rent frae aff the soil.
Else twig the mealpowk's strings ;
A harvest's never snodly shorn.
Unless the shearers every mom.
Are early on the wing.
Through ilka turning o* the year,
I moil and brose awa.
E'en out in winter I appear,
Amang the frost and sna —
Cauld poddering, and foddering.
The nought amang the biels,
Then curling, and hurling,
The channlestane at spiels.
334 MAC MAC
A lanely melancholy lad,
Ane quarter wise, three quarters mad,
\Vi* gloomy brow a burning ;
Whiles merry too, and looking gay,
Enjoying then a sunny day,
Before rude storms returning —
Is what I am, and in this breast
I find wild creatures working,
A throbbing pulse that will not rest.
Strong independence lurking —
Nae cringing, nae whinging,
Shall ever come frae me.
Nor fanning, nor yawning.
My stars have boni me free ;
Gang and be slaves ye fools wha will.
And get wharwith your kytes to fill,
Frae ither bigger knaves ;
I envy not your fu* broth pot.
Your beefy, bursen, rifting lot.
And roomy howket graves.
Rather aneath yon binwud brae,
Amang the yellow broom,
I'd on the bonny e'ening stray,
Wi* belly rather toom —
What's jinking, and slinking.
And crouching night and day.
To grandeurs, and splendours.
Which nature doth display.
I'll never hae a poet's name,
Nor in the gaudy house of fame.
Enjoy a wee bit garret ;
The clinking I may hit, hooh, hoo.
As also could the cockatoo.
Or green Brazilian parrot.
I want that potent pithy nerve.
Which Bardies ought to hae,
Frae nature too, I owre far swerve,
And her sweet melody —
The muse whiles, refuse whiles,
To lend poor Mac a lift.
She'll sneer me, and jeer me,
And winna come in tift.
The lasses tho' are glad o' me.
Sweet dearies wi' the blythsome e'e,
And I lo'e them as weel ;
They are the soul of this dull earth,
Whaever hates them damns his birth.
And lives a canker'd cheil.
MAC MAC 335
O ! if I had her in my arms,
My fair, my blodming queen,
She wha my heart for ever warms,
And ay my love has been —
I'd kiss her, and bhss her.
And praise her to the skies,
I'd clap her, and hap her,
Frae every blast tnat tlies.
For a' sae shortly's I hae been
Upon this warl' what hae I seen.
Big hubbies never ending ;
How mony millions ither nosing.
How mony thousands peace pn>posing.
Yet the deil's ne'er mending.
Broils wi' pens, and broils wi' swords.
And graves wi' bouks a cramming,
(jloomy plots, and lofty words.
Silly man a shamming —
But brattle and rattle,
My slavering gomfs, awa,
I'm fearless, and careless,
O' you baith ane and a'.
I'll ramble down my rural hows,
And jump amang the clints and knows,
And rant my sangs fu' cheery ;
And roose auld Scotland a' I can,
Like ony ither honest man,
For o' her I'm ne'er weary,
She yet has been fu' kind to mc,
A mither true and feithfu'
To glunch at her I'd sorry be.
Ay most confounded laithfu'
But here then, I'll speer then,
Gif it be time to quat,
The de'il man, can tell man,
'Tis fully time for that.
Some of my readers may probably think me a bit of a
poet, by the spouting I hold, but 'tis nonsense ; when I
publish my poem of the Rustic Madman, which I have
past me in Six Tornadoes, then will appear what I am as a
poet : —
Suppose I was the richest man,
That ever strode upon the globe.
Suppose I rode in gold sedan.
And wore a weighty diamond robe.
Had shoals of slaves both he and she.
Had sporting ladies, many a score.
336 MAD MAL
Had grandeur quite done out with me,
And luxury exhausted sore.
An independent man with sense,
Would be a greater man by far,
F!ven though his purse contained but pence
A noble soul's without a par.
Then scratch your dross from every shore.
Ye greedy, bustling, grubbing men,
Sum up at last, what s in the store.
And 'twill amount to nothing then,
Mades — The larvae, or seed of mawks^ maggots ; as laid by the
blue douped mawking flee, or maggot fly, on humpKd or
putrid flesh.
Makers — A tract of low, wet lying land, of a marshy
and moory nature ; Mahermore or Mahermere, is a speci-
men.
Maiden — An ancient instrument, for holding the broaches of
pirns until the pirns be wound off".
Maiden-hair — The muscles of oxen, when boiled, termed fix
faux, towards the border ; it is called maiden-hair, from its
resembling in colour the hair of a maiden ; the gmudefi-fair,
sometimes too it is ycleped yellmv hair,
Maiden-kimmer — The maid who attends the kimmer ; or
matron who has the charge of the infant at kimmerings and
baptisms ; who lifts the babe into the arms of its father, to
receive the sprinkling of salvation.
Maillies — An affectionate name for sheep ; from mae, the bleat
of a sheep.
Maister — A dominie ; a school-master.
Male-a-forren — A meal of meat, over and above what is con-
sumed ; a meal before hand.
Mall — Moll ; Mally — Molly. Mall Trott was a cha-
racter well known over Galloway. Perhaps as well as
Hudibras's Mall Cutpurse, or Defoe's Moll Flanders, are
MAL MAR 337
to the curious reader; hear the song of Mally Whur-
lie : —
O, wha is't ye like best,
Ve like best, ye like best,
O, wha is't ye like best ?
My merry Mally lVhurlu\
There's nane amang the hills and hows,
Nor yet amang the Fumart knows,
Wha I can every inch gae roose,
But jolly Wully Gurlic.
And what's Wullie but a gow ?
But a gow, but a gow,
And what's Wullie but a gow ?
My merry Mallie Whurlie.
He*s worth a hunner gows and ten,
I wat he is the king o' men,
Tho' laird but o' a clocking hen,
My jolly IVttlly Gurlie.
Ay atweel he's poor enough,
I*oor enough, poor enough.
Ay atweel he's poor enough,
My merry Mally Whurlie.
But what's his poverty to me,
For riches care I no a flee.
He's ay worth ony ten o' thee,
>Iy jolly Wnllif Gurlie,
Manitoodlie — An affectionate term which nurses give to male
children.
Mankie — An ancient kind of worsted stuff, much glazed, worn
by females ; where it was manufactured I have not gathered ;
it could not have been in the Isle of Man,
Map SI E — A pet-sheep, called so from its map^ mapping with its
lips ; young hares are also mapsies,
Mark nor Burn — The same with hilt nor hair ; when one
loses anything and finds it not again, we are said to never
see mark nor burn of it again ; it is a shepherd's phrase, as
he bums the sheep with a red hot iron on the horns and
nose, to enable him to know them.
Mark o* Mouth — A mark in the mouth, whereby horse,
sheep, and other cattle-dealers, know the age of the ani-
V
33^ MAR MAY
mal by opening its lips. I believe the mark respects the
number of teeth, as these animals, for a certain number of
years, get two new teeth annually ; but when they live
beyond a certain period, they lose the mark d mouth ; old
maidens are said sometimes to have lost the mark o* mouth,
when the rose leaves the cheek, and the snowy breasts,
which once seemed like little hills, have melted or shrunk
away.
Markstanes — Stones set up on end for marks in the days of
yore, that farmers might know the marches of their fisirms,
and lairds the boundaries of their lands : these stones are
most common in the moors.
Maunt — To speak thick and fast ; to have a marrva the speech.
Mautman — A man who makes malt Sometime ago, maltmen
had always good ale about them, so were merry ; hence arose
the phrase, " as merry s a mautman^
Mawster — A mower ; a wielder of the scythe.
Maw-waw — A tom-cat's cry when he goes a courting.
Mayne — ^John Mayne, Esq., part editor and owner of the
newspaper called " The Star," a London paper, published
every evening. This gentleman is a Gallovidian, and a
poet ; he is the author of that well-known poem the Sillar
Gutiy a poem, Walter Scott says, is beyond the might of
Robert Fergusson, and approaches nearer to Bums than
anything in the Scotch language ; this says much for
Mr. Mayne*s muse. In my opinion, the Sillar Gun is a
good rustic poem, though I think the young bard before
mentioned the greater poet of the two. He also wrote the
sweet song of Logan Braes^ a poem named Glasgow;
another way of Kirkconnel-lee, different from that of
Stewart Luis, the author of Owre the Muir amang the
Heather, Mr. M. was bred a printer, is now an old re-
spectable man, with much of the Scotchman's warmth
MEA MEL
339
about him, with the soul of genius still glinting in his eye.
It refreshes me very much to get a shake of the hand and
a crack from Mr. Mayne, for there is more goodness and
originaHty about him than I can express.
Meal-Hogyett — A barrel For holding oatmeal.
Mealoms — Very dry potatoes, when boiled.
Mealpowk and the String — Begging accoutrements.
Mealstanes — Rude stones of seventeen and a half pounds
weight, used in weighing oatmeal.
Meg o' mony Feet — A black hard worm, with many hundred
feet, and two feelers before ; it is quite common between the
stones of old dykes, and suspicious places; its length is
generally about three inches, and the bite of it poisonous.
Hence it is dreaded by youths; indeed, children have a
natural instinct to dread it. For all the number of feet it has,
and which has given rise to its name, the motions of it are
not quick, and when any way interrupted it coils itself up.
There is another sort of worm found in the same kind of
place with this, and has a number of feet also, though not so
many as the other, yet its movements are much quicker;
the colour of this one is grass-green; it has no name, but may
be termed, with propriety methinks, the Scotch centipee, as it
is of the same genera with the centipee of the torrid zone.
Mellgrave — A break in a highway; a place requiring the
genius of M^Adam, the celebrated roadman^ to repair it.
In roads which pass through soft countries, mellgraves most
prevail ; it is said that a horse with its rider once sank in a
mellgrave somewhere in Ayrshire, and were never more heard
of.
Mell I* THE Shaft — A phrase, literally meaning a mell^ or
maul, or mallet in shaft, but used allegorically thus : — when
a person's worldly affairs get disordered, it is said the mell
cannot be keeped in the shaft ; now, unless the mell ht keeped
340 MER MID
in the shafts no work can be done. Bills become immoveable
the day and the way cannot be keeped clear ; and when, by
struggling, a man is not overset, he is said to have keeped the
null in the shaft, or the soul and body in partnership.
Merlie — Sandy and sweet ; when honey is in this state, it is
said to be merlie ; when it is beginning to grow this way, it
merles ; and when it is let go on, it is merling.
Mermaid's Purse — A beautiful kind of sea-weed box, which
is found driven in on the shores, of an oblong shape, that
is to say, longer than broad, being about two inches and
a half one way, and three the other, with a long spraing
or talon stretching out from each comer, as long as the
box ; it is of a raven-black colour on the outside and sea-
green within, hoven up in the middle, and open at one end ;
and, unlike other sea-weed, never found connected together.
Merrick — Five large hills or mountains in Galloway ; they lay
beside one another, and gradually rise, the one a little higher
above the other ; in the morning and evening the shadows of
these hills on the level moors below seem like the fingers of
an awful hand ; hence the name Merrick, which, in the Gaelic,
signifies fingers. How expressive that language must be.
O 1 that I were master of it.
Merry-meat — The same with kimmering; the feast at a birth.
Mervadie — Any fine sweet brittle cake is said to be mer-
vadie ; this word and merlie are someway connected ; but
as I am such a slim linguist, I cannot see the relationship.
MiCELED — Did eat, somewhat after the way of mice.
MiD-KiPPLE — That piece of hide which keeps the two sticks of
a flai! in partnership.
MiDSE-DAV — Middle of the day; mid-room, a little room be-
tween the kitchen and parlor; mids, middle. "There's a
gude mids in a* things ; " which means, extremes should be
avoided.
MIL MIL 34 »
Milker — ^A cow that gives much milk. A cow with a large
udder is not always a good milker ; it is said that it is by the
head that the cow gives the milk ; which means, that if a cow
be a great eater, she is also a great milker.
MiLLAE — The loftiest mountain in the south of Scotland, away
by four thousand feet above the level of the sea ; seldom doth
it doff its cowl of snow in honour of the sun.
MiLLBANNOcK — A circular cake of oatmeal, with a hole in the
centre ; it is generally a foot in diameter, and an inch in
thickness ; it is baked at mills, and haurned or toasted on
the burning seeds of shelled oats, which makes it as brittle
as if it had been baked with butter; of course, then, the //////-
banfwck is allowed to be the chief of all bannocks. A miller in
Wigtonshire once made an enormous one of a boll of meal, as
a present to his laird the Earl of Galloway, in hopes that the
Earl would give him a do2un-come of the rent ; but instead of
doing so, he raised it on him fifty pounds per annum, saying,
" that if he could afford to make sic millbannocks to his friends,
he could be no way distressed." Poor Dusty then had no
other shift than to return to his old shop, with his finger in
his mouth, and curse confound the plot o' the mill-bannock.
MiLL-cLOOSE — The same with tnill-tro^vse. The boxed wood-
work which conducts the water into mill wheels.
Miller o' Minnieive — Somewhere in the south of Scotland, a
traveller may fall in with (by searching every nook) a village,
or more properly, a clauchan termed Minnieive, Its latitude
and longitude have never yet been properly ascertained ; a
thing, by the bye, much wanted now, as the place is every
day getting farther into vogue. It will soon eclipse Ambleside
on the lakes, as a hamlet of celebrity ; for there is the abode
of a miller, with whom, for poetry and a thousand other
fine things, no laker can be compared. Respecting this
personage, none but poets can see or have any dealings, but
342 MIL MIL
to them, he keeps not in utter darkness ; so I shall just give
ray readers a peep of him from behind the cloud : and firstly
then, his
COMPARISONS.
Those bergs of ice which do arise
In arctic worlds to such a size,
Surprising travellers so bold,
Who wander through these realms so cold ;
Remind me, by their strange narration.
Of this vast debt which damns our nation ;
Like it, they higher, wilder rear
Their awful heads from year to year.
Each winter's frost and fall of snow
I>o make them swell, and larger grow,
Just as the interest doth the sum.
And foolish broils with sword and drum.
Till now 'tis got so mighty big.
It frights the tory and the whig ;
Few find their souls sufficient bold,
As can the monster huge behold ;
None but philosophers must dare.
And poets, who are free of care.
No taxes that reduce are felt.
No sun the dreadful mount will melt ;
'Twill tower away yet for awhile.
Ascend yet farther two, three mile.
Then down 'twill tumble with a dash,
And who, good God, will stand the crash ?
So much then for the Miller; his comparisons are worth the
looking at. Mark another : —
Squire KirtUs worth ten thousand pounds,
And more than that the squire's a lillain^
Bob Kfd has neither cash nor grounds.
And yet the lad is worth a million.
How comes this, let's see the plan ?
'Tis very plain, you need not doubt it,
Bob Keel is just an honest man.
So that is all there is about it.
At this, Squire Kirtle now may itch.
May roup his farmers, try stock -jobbing.
Do all he can to be as rich.
And yet he'll ne'er come up wi' Robbin.
Squire Kirtle with his hounds and whores.
And all the luxuries of folly.
Are smothered quite by Robbin's stores,
And what are they ? — a kent and collie.
MIL MIL 343
Squire Kirtle lolls on sofas soft,
When he with wine gets swell'd and groggy.
But poor Bob Keel reposeth oft
By cauller springs on banks sae foggy.
Which now, is the better man ?
The one is hemlock — t'other myrtle,
We need not guess, we see the plan.
Bob Keel is far before Squire Kirtle.
An honest man's the king of men ;
If heaven hath good and better places.
The best place there some yet may ken.
Is where the soul that's honest graces.
For the sake of fun I may give another, and the most
singular of the three : —
Whar yon bum frae Kirrbride
Tummies into the sea,
Twa hizzies abide,
llius admired by me :
The tane for her doumess.
The 'tither for sweetness ;
The first for her sourness.
The second for neatness.
Thev are baith in ae house,
Tney are baith named Jeanie^
The tane's never crouse,
And her hide's like a guinea :
O lord ! she b yellow.
And yawps like a peany,
But the tither is mellow,
O, she is my JeanU,
Sweet heaven, what an eye,
O, how she loves kissing,
In my arms she will lie.
And receive my best blessing :
But the ither may go.
The auld scraighton sae din,
To the regions below,
And display her tan'd skin.
O, sweet is the pear,
O, sweeter is hinnie,
But sweeter's my dear,
My ain melting Jeanie :
Sour is the crab.
And wrinkled's my grannie,
( ), where is the drab
A match for this Jeanie ?
344 MIL MIL
The first is a blossom,
Hcfitting my bosom ;
The second's infernal,
External, internal.
A singular poet is this Miller of Minnieive in truth ; see
how he paints himself to a friend : —
Vm but ane humble dusty miller,
Xo unco fond of grubbing siller.
Nor steering wi' a steady tiller,
Through life's queer bca ;
But tak my dram wi' a care-killer.
My Jock like thee.
For why should I mysell immure
Eternally, mang powks and stowre ?
I like a breath o' air that's pure,
As weel as ony ;
A buik, a bumper, to be sure,
And hizzies bonny.
My kilman, cheerfu' soul, and me,
To ithers hands do work wi' glee,
And weel I wat we've mony a spree,
In the kiilogie ;
Xae twasome thou didst ever see,
Sae blythe and vogie.
The miller's muse, tho', is unfit
To praise thee, Johnie, for thy wit.
But, like a wise man, ye'll submit
To glimmer owre me ;
'ITie tod he kens a halesome bit,
Sae won't devour me.
Will. Shakspur and the ploughman Robbie,
Wad baith be beat too wi' the jobbie,
Tho' they could dance in nature';: lobbie,
Wi' meikle glee ;
Then how can I, a dusty dobbie.
Do aught wi* thee ?
The warl at large may join and thank ye,
And 'mang the first o' modems rank ye,
Auld Scotland in her plaid may fank ye,
Fu' bein and warm ;
For e'en the sauls o' Killivianky^
Ve've powers to charm.
Behold yet, what a songster the Miller is ; hear to his
Wild roaring Sea.
Where, think 'st thou, Mary, thy lover is,
Where now does he doat on thee?
O I far away from the land of bliss,
And my darling far from me ;
MIL MIN 345
Vrn on the black wide rolling deep,
Where pleasures never be,
0 Mary, my love, here do I weep,
On the wild roaring sea.
1 weep for thee, Mary, my lovely dear.
But the surges care not for me.
The billows do not my wailing hear.
My soul is in sorrow for thee ;
My poverty did force us to part,
Our parents did not agree,
So I am flung with a broken heart.
On the wild roaring sea.
Come down, ye dark clouds, that lower above,
Come dashing down on me,
For since I cannot get with my love.
From this life I long to be free :
O, was I sure that Ijeyond the grave.
My Mary I would meet with thee,
I would plunge myself beneath that wave,
In the wild roaring sea.
So poetry and poverty.
Are ne'er a kin to ither.
The tane the sister is I see.
The tither is the brither.
Then ye whose haums are cram*d with wit.
So as to keep the world alive,
May make a friend if ye think fit.
Of the Miller o^ Minnieive,
Mill- LADE — The drain or ieady as it were, which conveys the
water from mill-dams to the mill-ivhcel ; sometimes called
mill-race.
Mill-shilling — The shelled grain, which runs out of the mill-
^e. When we see a person vomiting, from the effects of
drinking spirits, we say he was *• sendin* the drink frae him
like a mill-shilling."
Milts and Rowans — The seed of fish, such as herrings ; those
with milts y are said to be the male herrings the other with
ro7vanSy \ht female,
Mim-mou'd — Having an affected way of speaking.
Minnifx;aff— One of the wildest moorland parishes in Gallo-
way : some of the natives of it live fifteen miles from
church ; this was the parish wherein was born and bred.
346 MIN MIN
our celebrated linguist Murray. The following love song
respecting this bleak tract, somewhat pleases me —
My Mary eUat^s awa^
My ruwt iov/s awa\
Afui left nu in this weary toarl^
Where I hcu naejoy ava\ — Chorum
I saw her laid in her cauld hed,
And happed wi' a green sod,
My e'en filled fu*, my heart it bled,
0 ! I hope she's wi' her God.
At the school we \%*ar fu' pack,
We sat ay upon the ae oink,
0 ! I liked to luik at her e'en sac black,
For lovely she could blink.
When she bade wi' her auntie Jane,
'Mang the Moors o' Minniegaff,
To see my love I hae aften gane.
And thought it nae way aff.
1 hae waded the waters deep,
1 hae clam the mountains hie.
To see my Mary, but now I maun weep,
'Neath the auld bowrock tree.
O ! Mary was a sweet, sweet lass.
The joy o' a' my heart.
To me the like o' her never was.
And yet we're forced to part.
Naething but death, the bluidy knave,
Cud hae sinner'd my love and me,
O ! wad he lay me aside her i'e grave,
Kind, kind to me he'd be.
How strongly too is this parish hinted at in the Fareivtel
d Mes BoMls,
Ha Minniegaff thou Moorland clout,
Wi* thee I hae had an unco bout,
But faith, at last thou'st l)eat me out,
W^ithout a chcel ;
Mayl^e to tak a better rout,
Sae fare thee weel.
Sax years, antl something niair are ganc.
Since I cam to the stanning-stane.
And twa three lads loo, there I've haen,
At least I thought sac ;
But now I'm left without a 'anc,
My fortune •vrought sae.
MIN MIN 347
Tarn o' the Todholes lo*cd me best,
And I thought mair o'ln than the rest.
He was ay better bred and dress' t,
And bonnier far ;
But some confound, else I'd been blest,
My luck did mar.
I Ic gaed to Ayr, some sheep to sell,
(Sae neebours roon the tale do tell),
And there wi' some queer jades befel,
Wha trounce the street ;
They shab'd puir lliomas aff to hell,
Wi* nimble feet.
Rah Gumell too, wha had a farm,
Did tell me I had mony a charm.
And that his heart grew unco warm.
Whan he was wi' me ;
Guess what a laughable alarm.
The cheel did gie me.
I lived wi' my maiden auntie,
Wha was fu' puist and unco canty,
Kab wad come in, and seem to want me,
But mark the hash ;
*Twas my auld friend he did gallant ay,
Or else her cash.
He'd speak to her and then to me,
Play wink at her his scoundrel e'e,
He did na think that I wad see,
His tricks sae mean ;
Tho' them I saw fu' bonnily,
Wi' my twa e'en.
And Patie Plumrock whiles cam owre,
IMie black moss hags at me to glowre,
Ay on't the Hogyet he wad cour.
And seem fu' blate ;
But weel kend I what kin' o' wo'er,
I had o' Pate.
He was ane o' the hoolet class,
Wha nightly flee frae lass to lass,
A bleer-e'ed, hirpling, silly ass.
An' oozly tyke ;
I'm sure nae woman ever was,
This gomf cud like.
Sic and sic like, my lads hae been,
A waufer squad sure few hae seen,
1 wad been mad had I been keen,
O' ony ane o'm ;
My fortune I may thank I ween.
For getting nane o'm.
34« MIN MOC
They'd hing about the auld kirk-stile.
On Sundays wi* a sneering smile.
Whan I'd be coming ower the while,
Wi my white frock on ;
'Bout me they stories wad compile.
And jibe and joke on.
C) ! there stood ga]>ing mony a loon,
Krae clinty moore wi' muggart croon.
Boss a' gates but whar the hom-spoou.
It's lades did coup ;
Lifted at morn, mid-day, and noon,
Frae Goan and stoup.
I bid them farewell, ane and a'.
They ne'er again shall see me braw,
Out owre the seas I'm for awa.
Ere this day week ;
To Boston, in America,
A man to seek.
I'm on the right side thratty yet.
Has twa red cheeks and gyly neat,
Can put on gowns that are fu* feat;
Sae Minniegaff,
Farewel for ay, I shan't be beat.
Adieu, I'm aff.
MiNSHOCH — A female goat two years old. Barnieivater said,
he shot a witch once, wi' a crooked sixpence ; she was in the
form o* a hare, but whan he drew tnaur her, she was as big
as a mins/ioch,
MisERTisH — Having the manners of a miser; being
avaricious.
MissLiE — We say such a one is misslie, when his presence is
missed anywhere, and thought to be awanting.
MiTELEi) — Eaten away, as if with tnitcs. When si/ler is chynged,
it is said to be soon mote or mitle away.
Mither's-pet — The youngest child of a family ; tlie mother s
greatest favourite ; the Tony Lumpkin of the house.
MocHY — We say of the weather, when it is warm and moist,
that it is mochy weather ; and of everv'thing else in a similar
wav. that it is mochw
MOE MOO 349
MoEMS — Scraps of any thing, such as moems o' curiosity.
Perhaps the English word moiety and it are one.
Than moems, o* poems,
I will sing unto thee,
Sac laughing, and kauching.
Thou fain would follow me. —
Auld Sang.
MoiDERT — One whose intellects are rendered useless, by being
in the habit of taking spirituous liquors to excess, is said to
be moidert.
MoLLAN — A long straight pole, such as fishermen use at their
Jish-yards.
MooLiE-HEELS — A kind of chilblain, troublesome to the heels
in frosty weather.
MooLiE Pudding — The game oi deadelie ; one has to run with
the hands locked, and taen the others.
MooNOG — A name for the cranberry or crawberry.
MooRLANDERS — The natives of the moor. The manners of
these people differ decidedly from those of the vale ; there is
more of nature in her primitive state about them, even the
very priests become tinged ; behold the portrait of one drawn
the other day —
THE MOOR MINISTER.
Weel do I like to see that worthy man,
He has nae art, he's le<l by nature's plan,
Nae pride o' lair, but modest, calm, and free,
Nae fluent gab, and yet he pleases me ;
His neives ne'er lifted like a sledging mill,
As if 'twad dash his harmless flock to hell,
Nae gown has he upon his body laid,
But his braid showthers fanked in a plaid ;
While on his feet he has a pair o' clogs
For plunging mang the saft and spouty bogs,
Nor does he wi' them gie a clamping clink,
Whan he wad wish his curious flock to think,
But lets them see the lovely road fu' even,
Owre the blue mountains to the Father's heaven.
He disna rant and seek for meikle words,
Whatere he wants the bible soon affords,
For sterling facts he never seeks for proof,
liut skelps the truth directly afl'his loof ;
350 MOR MOS
He never writes, xmd makes a fuss and caper.
Out owre a lengthened sermon -scrabbled paper,
Fu' weel he tells his modest tale without it,
A downright text, and little mair about it ;
Lugs out his mull, and aft his neb will prime.
Lets out his fowk or it be dinner time.
While his queer hearers ane and a* agree,
A noble han* for backing out is he.
At chnstnings he taks a cheerfu' glass.
And on the ice his like sure never was.
He's fii' o' glee, has a' around him sae.
They pingle meikle on his side to play ;
And sift a party he'll hae at the manse,
Some farmer's sin can fiddle, sae they dance.
While aft is seen upon the braw deal floor,
My worthy cheel — The Minister €e Moor.
Morgoz'd — Made a confusion of; any thing put into disorder,
so that it cannot be righted, is said to be morgos^d.
Morn-i'e-morning — The mom after h'ght dawns forth. Morn-
ing begins when twelve o'clock at night is run ; but the
mom-fe-moming, in the dead of winter, begins not until near
eight o'clock. It is a singularly expressive phrase, the mam
on the morn, and far from being the same with the
morrow-morning; that is the morning of another day
spoken of, whereas this relates to one and the same
morning.
MoRROCH — To soil any thing. When any thing is trampled in
a gutter, we say it is morrocHd ; probably this and gorroch is
one and the same word as to derivation, but different as to
meaning.
MoRTH o* Cauld — Those who receive a severe cold, get
what is termed their morth d cauld \ which means,
their death from cold, (from Latin mors, death ; or mort,
deadly).
MosHiN-HOLE — The touch hole of a piece of ordnance ; ^^ pike
the moshin-holej^ say we, to those who are for firing a gun,
when, on being snafd, it hurtis priming; which means,
to clean out the touch-hole.
MOS MUC 351
Moss-boils — Large moorland fountains, the sources of
rivers.
Moss-HAGGS — Any break in black-looking, wild, mossy moors,
is called a hagg,
MowDiE-HiLLANS — Mole-hills ; in the large ones, the
animals have their nests, there they breed the young maiv-
diewarts.
MowDiEMEN — Mole catchers, from mowdic^ a. mole.
These men are generally all from Westmoreland, and com-
monly very singular characters. My friend yohn Rook
is the most celebrated in this way. John is truly a won-
derful, shrewd, good-natured fellow; his observations
are all original, and his tales, jokes, &c., with the manner
in which he tells them, have made me laugh a thousand
times.
MovLiE — A mild, good-natured person : an auld moylie^
a tame person, even to sillyness ; a moylic, is also a bullock
wanting horns.
MoziE — A moidert'iooking person ; a being with silly in-
tellects.
MucKLE-CHAiR — The large arm-chair^ common in all
houses, whose inmates revere the memory of their fore-
fathers ; for farther knowledge respecting this rustic throne,
peep at the following poem : —
Sae there ye sit, my worthy, snug,
In nuik aside the chimla-lug,
Whar there is nae frost air ;
'Bout sofas let the gentles craik,
Of velvet cushions raise a fraik,
lliey canna match the black moss-aik,
My muckle auld arm-chair.
Nae worm nor clock will break thy skin,
To haud a ticking din within,
And crump and hole thee sair ;
Thy aimy joints what time can fade.
The wricht kend surely wecl his trade.
Whan thee sae strongly a* he made,
My darling auld arm-chair.
352 MUC MUC
Faith, ablins true is that remark,
That thou wert ance in Noah's Ark,
Some plank or timmer there ;
For every sage is at a loss,
To tell whan plonks lay down in moss,
I wat this is a question cross,
My gruesome auld arm-chair.
But fancy we'll nae mair bout that,
In thee my douce fore-fathers sat.
Three hundred years and mair ;
They sat in thee wi' honest pride,
The hazel clicky by their side,
And ruled around them far and wide,
Their throne, the auld arm-chair.
There ploughmen's tales about their socks.
And what the herds kend o' the flocks.
War laid afore them fair ;
There byre women too, wad ask,
What wark outby composed their task.
While round the ingle tykes wad bask.
And neath the auld arm-chair.
And through the wunter lang forenights.
Mine Gutchers auld douce farming wights,
O' clatters wama' spare ;
They'd crack 'bout things o' ither years,
Or take a turn at wads and wears,
Whilk ay the heart sae blithly cheers,
My noble auld arm-chair.
And aften too, wi' serious luik,
They sat in thee and tuik the buik.
Then read and gaed a prayer ;
While a' around* wi a'e accord,
W'ad listen to the sacred word,
They too wi' psalms wad praise the Lord,
P>ae thee, thou auld arm-chair.
Whan gurly norlan' blasts wad blaw.
And swurl in sneep white wrides the snaw,
W^hile lochs wi* frost wad rair ;
And burdies frae the wuds grew tame.
And curlers trimmled at their game,
I wat they'd fin' themsells ahame,
W^han in the auld arm-chair.
O ! how my ancient seat I luve ye,
Nae plenishin in a' our Cruevie,
Can wi' thee ava' compare ;
The glorious days o* Auld I^ng Syne,
Ye lay afore the fancy fine.
While some ane o' the tunefu' nine.
Ay haunts the auld arm-chair.
MUG MUR 353
Whan I grow auld wi' blinkers hazy,
Wi' banes a shiegling and crazy.
To thee I will wi* joy repair ;
Forsake my craigs aside the shore,
Whar whiles I sit whan surges roar,
And nature's howfs whilk I adore.
For thee my auld arm-chair.
There will I wear out life's frail trum,
Just clotching canny on my bum,
We'll be a curious pair ;
My sma cauld spaws the gleed will beek.
And should my e'en whiles rin wi' reek,
Thou 'It gie me a' the ease I'll seek.
My gracious auld arm-chair.
And should fate, like a shark, gae chace,
Frae here the hale Mactaggart race,
(Thou famous relique rare) ;
I hope the warl will thee regard.
And never reel ye unco hard.
But let some honest rustic bard.
Enjoy the auld arm-chair.
Tho* ne'er will your brade bodden bear,
A man sae excellent, sae dear.
And fu' o* nature's lair ;
As he wha now possesses thee,
And lang may he possessor l)e,
I mean my father, kind and free,
Now in the auld arm-chair.
MuGG — ^To Strike or buck a ball out from a wall, as is done in
the game of the wa'haw,
MuGG-SHEEP — Sheep all white coloured ; lowland sheep.
MuGGART — The mugivort ; out of these boys make blowchtons,
MuLDERT — Mouldered, rotted, &c.
MuMPLE — To seem as if going to vomit.
MuNN — An old person with a very little face ; see Cuttymun,
and since writing that article, Cuttymuns and three Laddies
have come into my head ; so this phrase may seem to say,
that Cuttymun is a short-shanked spoon.
MuNNONDAV — The ancient way of naming Monday.
MuREBURN — The way they have in the moorlands of burning
down the old heather, so that grass may arise to feed
cattle and sheep. The heather is never allowed by good
farmers to grow more than four or fv^'t years. The work
z
354 MUR MUR
of mureburn goes on in the dry weather of spring, and
blazes away with a rapid wildness, frightening hares and
grouse from its neighbourhood. When viewed from the
I/Owlands on a fine night, it makes one fancy of the de-
vastations of war, spreading so quickly when lighted, and
encircling the wild mountains in red flaming curves. It
must also somewhat resemble that scene seen by some
travellers in foreign countries, of forests set in flames by the
natives to destroy serpents, and scare away wild beasts.
When any thing like bad news spreads fast, we say, " it goes
like mureburn,^'*
Mure-ill — A disorder common among cattle, and thought to
proceed from the animals eating poisonous herbs ; it is
somewhat cured with doses of salts and saltpetre. Nowt
taen to a ntiv gang^ or noicfi^ after a spate, are apt to take the
mure-ill or red-water; it also prevails much with cattle which
graze on a moor pasture ; hence the name mure-ill, or the ill
of the moor,
Murray, the Historian — Mr. Murray, a gentleman who lately
published the Literary History of Galloway, a work he has
certainly done much justice to ; and I only think it a pity,
that he paid so much attention to a subject, not surely worth
the paying attention to. For instance, what was the use of
rummaging ancient libraries, to know whether a -certain
priest once lived in a certain parish, and a priest who, when
all is known of him that can be or could be, is worth nothing,
he turns out to be a mere common priest ? Mr. M. is also
too in an error, when he thinks that there are, or have
been, no literary characters in Galloway but priests ; how-
ever, the industry of this author I laud, and long to see
directed to something of more consequence ; perhaps I may
take this home to myself.
Murray, the Linguist — Dr. Murray, the celebrated lingu-
ist, and author, born in MinniegafT, died in Edin-
MUR MUS 355
burgh, &c, &c. I have only one remark to make on him,
and I have done. Why has he not given the world some-
thing respecting his native language, his mother tongue?
did he look down on, and despise it ? this I cannot think,
for he was a lover of his country : yet I cannot help thinking
that the Gallovidians are as good a tribe of human beings
as any in the neighbourhood of Gondar, and as much
worthy attention. It will be some time, in my opinion,
ere a native of Scnaar returns the compliment to the
Doctor's country which he has done to his. Had he
clubbed his skill in the Scotch language to that of Dr.
Jamieson, how much would Scotland have praised his name I
What he has done, however, is well enough, and had
. his life been spared, we might have expected more. He
has travelled with Bruce to the source of Ntius, as
arduous a task as his name-sake Bruce had in establishing
the independence of Scotland. Murray has shown him-
self to be a creature of strong intellect, and unabating per-
severance; view him in any light we will, we discover a
wonderful prodigy.
MuRRLiN — A very froward child, ever whining and ill-natured.
Mush — A vast of matters tossed together, such as straw, grain,
hay, chaff, &c.
MusHOCH — A heap of grain, thrashed out and laid aside in a
comer for seed ; this grain is confined into as small a bulk
as possible, by surrounding it with mushoch-rapesy thick ropes
twisted on purpose.
MussLE-BROSE — A brosc made from mussles. These shell-fish
are boiled in their own sapy and this juice, when warm, is
mingled with oatmeal ; so a strong brose indeed is made,
perhaps the strongest that can be ; for it is
A dish by Jove might feast a king,
And paint his cheeks the rose,
Muke dulbcrts laugh, and poets sing,
The sjxirkrmg Mussle brose.
356 MUL NAM
MuLTER or MuiTER — The miller's fee for his meldin;
if the melder be six bolls, the mutter is about the fortieth
part
MuTTYOCH*D or Mottyoch'd — Matted ; when sheaves of com
grow together, after being cut in moist weather, we say they
are muttyoch'dy or matted together.
N.
Nab — A blow on the head.
Nabble — A narrow-minded, greedy, laborious person.
Nackie — A person expert at any art is said to be nacky.
Nackuz — One who tells a tale pretty sharply; sometimes
naxie is the word.
Naelstrinc; — The umbilical cord.
Naggs — I^rge pegs for hanging things out of the way on.
Nail'd — Knocked over. Thus we say when we see a hare
shot, that she's naiPd ; also a villain caught at his tricks, is
naifd ; and a girl when she gets pregnant of a spurious
child, is said to be naifd: the term is applied various ways,
and may literally meanyJlxr^as with a nail.
Names o' Gruns — Names of farms. Our names for farms,
like our names for various other things, are some-
what strange ; a few of the derivations of them may be
traced by good Celtic scholars to that ancient language,
others to tongues of a like nature. Thus all those begin-
ning with Auchcfiy Druniy Nock, &c. we may easily ex-
pound ; but it would require a dab, methinks, in the
Gaelic, to know the true meaning of Orhars^ Mollock,
Killimifigiey Nabeny, and so on. AirdSy we know,
stands for rocks ; Torrs, for wel rocky land ; Senivicks^ for
sandwicks, or sandy bays; Granges, for gamels or bams,
&c. In ever)' parish there are generally two farms, the
NAM NAM 357
one named Boreland^ the other Ingleston ; how these are
so named, antiquarians differ ; but as to those which have
burn, gieny ckuch^ or any such natural objects in their
names, we see through them at once. Moorland farms,
too, differ much from those of the dale, with respect to
the character of their names ; they seem to be of a wilder
and outlandish nature. In Wigtonshire a cluster of moor-
farms lie together, unable amongst them all to grow a boll of
com. I never hear their names mentioned but they make
me laugh — Pultidee^ Dirniemmv^ Gienkitten, Gienwhuiiy,
MuirdoiVj Craigbimoch^ the Quarter and the Close, There
are many in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, too, which
amuse the ear, such as Clauchendollyy Culikeggeriey Barr-
cheskie, &c. People fond of flinging everything into rhyme,
often fling the names of a number of farms so for fun, but
none of these I have heard comes up with the Ayrshire one
on this subject : —
** Doughtic, Auchengairn, Dawine, and Dahaim,
** Classgalloch, the Balloch, the Challoch,
** The Chang, and the Cairn."
These farms are all lying round the celebrated Steps d
StyncheTy on the way from Maybole to Newtonstewart, by the
famous Nick d the Balloch way from Ayrshire to Galloway-
(not by the way of the famed Laird d the Knoivs.) The
Chang is the Gaelic, I believe, for a tongue, and the Nick d
the Ballochy means a nick^ a hollow pass through moors, from
which a great balloch or moor view is to be had ; indeed, a
great part of both Ayrshire and Galloway is seen from this
place. It is not long since some families lived in Galloway,
who spoke Gaelic ; so it will be found, the greater part of the
names of farms, waters^ parishes^ &c. come from that
language ; thus, Cree is a march, a boundary, &c. ; Kcfiy the
chief; Kenmore, the chief head. But why treat of this
farther ?
3S8 NAN NAP
Nanse — The name for Agnes, or Nannie^ or Nancy ; a lovely
lass of this name gave cause for the following song : —
NANCY GREENWOOD.
Farewell, say I, to learning
To dungeon studies, dark and deep.
My heart is set a-yeaming,
Tm out of trim, I cannot sleep ;
And all for Nancy Greenwood,
Charming cheeked rosy queen,
I ne'er thought to've been this way,
A fool with love so madly keen.
My mathematic brain now •
Is whirling all as wild's the wind,
Algebra gives me pain now.
And nought with Fluxions I can find ;
But lovely Nancy Greenwood,
Standing fair within my sight,
Sweet soul, she's all I now see,
. And all I care for in the light.
With rapture oft I've gazed
Upon the sun, the moon, and stars.
But now my eyes are glazed,
My passions all run to the wars ;
'Bout smiling Nancy Greenwood,
Eclipsing deary, fair and free.
Shut up thy treasures, nature,
I want no other gem from thee.
And let me climb that hill there.
Or rove along the roaring shore.
My heart finds Nancy still there.
And will, I fear, for evermore ;
'Tis full of Nancy Greenwood,
The pain is heaven to endure ;
DisoRlers are delightful.
When love is both the cause and cure.
So sweet she comes before me.
Shining like the solar beam,
That phantom would restore me.
But ah ! that phantom is a dream ;
My darling Nancy Greenwood,
Cares nothing for the rural boy.
As Nancy is a lady.
So I must love, but ne'er enjoy.
Nappleroot — The black knotty root of an herb, diligently
digged for and greedily chewed by boys ; its taste being
rather pleasant.
NAP NAT 359
Napps — Small vessels made of wood, for holding milk ; little
tubs termed boynes, in some places of Scotland, and coags in
other.
Napsie — A fat little animal, such as a sheep.
Nathan Mackie — A very celebrated original Gallovidian
priest and poet ; his song of ** ycamie^ the glory and pride d
Dee^^ is very natural, and sweetly sung; he was a most
eccentric character, went about home very roughly clad ; his
hair, which was black, stood right on end ; and in an old
song wrote on him, a verse hints at this : —
He gat na't frae his minnie, O !
Nor yet frae his daddie,
Some craddle fright, or some auld wight,
Did swarf the young MackU laddie.
He was a great fisher, and extremely charitable. In the
water of Dee he would wade for days together, and fish
for geds ; few beggars ever came the way of his manse,
but he gave them quarters. An old carle called on hinv
one evening, and seeing the reverend gentleman in the
nuikj and not very divinely clad, the beggar fancied that
this was a personage like himself, who had been more
fortunate in getting the snug birth before him; so he
turned on his heel, and walked away, saying ^^hech hoTi}^
my room's taen up ! '* when the priest spoke out, and bade
him "come away and reestle himself at the ingle-cheek;^^
which the card gladly obeyed. The anecdotes of Nathan
are many, some of which will appear in the course of
this work. A few specimens of his poetry I may give,
thought to be his : —
O ! 1 shall follow no man's way,
Nor shall I imitate a manner.
The be^t may often go astray,
Tho* marching under virtue's banner.
Would some kind spirit let me know
This curious mystic, I'd like well.
Which arc the creatures here below
Will go to Heaven and which to Hell ?
36o NAT NAT
Then I'd be sensible which best
'Twould be for me to follow close.
To shun the damned, and love the blest,
Tho' they were hedged by many foes.
But none will this me e'er inform,
Yet Christ has pointed out the way,
Which I shall walk, and fear no storm.
With hopes to hail the eternal day.
BACK AND BELLY.
Confound ye for a cursed twa.
For you we grub and toil awa.
And yet your evei yuming ;
I ^^-unner what wad really please,
And set ye truly at your ease,
Your yanmiering and mourning.
Until ye're shot aneath the mools.
Ye winna be at rest ;
For here while living, just like fools
Ye're an unceasing pest.
Nae claise there to lease there,
Ye'll fin Sir Jolly Back,
Nor Squire Belly, nought to fill ye,
There ye'll sleep fu' pack,
O ! had our bonny mither Eve
Ne'er dune that crime to make us grieve,
Nae claise we now had needed ;
And we'd hae had the best o' meat,
Whane'er we'd been inclined to eat.
How happy we'd hae feeded.
But sae it is, we maun hae duds.
Or else we canna do ; ^
Toil we maun to co'er our fuds.
And toil to meat us too.
Ay rive on and strive on.
And peck away and yisk ,
Till bitches o' stitches.
Will catch us by the lisk.
Yirth's fu' o' wae, and mony a cheel will tell yc,
It maistly a' proceeds frae Back and Belly.
Nathan was really not a bad song composer ; witness what
follows : —
O ! I wish 1 had a l)onny wee wife,
To lie wi' me ate'en, O !
Altho' she whiles might vex me sair,
And keep my sorrows green O I
NAT NAT 361
For, curse me, I'm wearied lying my lane,
I turn, I tumble, and gaunt, O !
I sweat and fret, and burning feels
A gnawing, vexatious want, O!
Had I but Kate frae the Claverhown,
Or Jeanie frae out Glen-nap, O !
Or Mary frae aff Bamgaber hill.
How I'd kiss, and cuddle, and clap, O !
But, damn me, I hae nae scun ava,
And's ay for counting my purse, O !
The women I do lo'e devilish weel,
I'se hae ane, tho' she plays the curse, O !
Naturalls — Human beings who want a part of the mind that
seemingly they ought to have ; who move about, as it were,
purely by the dictates of nature ; such creatures are common
in all countries, and attract the attention of men by their
wild and out-of-the-way eccentricities. In Galloway there
are and have been not a few of them ; and I have often
pleased myself in admiring their ways. Davie Eddie is one
of the chiefs of this band ; he hotters about the clawhans^ and
a troop of boys in his train, dancing to wandering fiddlers, and
street bagpipe players. Wull Gourly runs about the country,
plays tunes on his nose, by making sound come through it,
and touching the sides with his finger, so produces sruelin
notes. He is also fond of eating sclaters ; he puts the insects
on his tongue, and, like the Ant-bear, lets them travel down
his^'red gullet. Sawny Clarnoch^ the doiPd Netu Gallmvay
herd ; there is something poetical in this naturall ; he wanders
by lonely shores, wild woods, and the tops of mountains,
standing frequently and pondering ; he is extremely modest,
and would die, I dare say, before he would beg a bit ; he
runs barefoot, and attends country kirks on Sundays.
yamie Neilson is a droll soul, and everything with him
is either the plan or not the plan. Thus peelocks and
buttermilks the plan ; porridge in a bam is not the plan.
362 NAT NAT
Girzey JV/tay, a strange female, thus drawn by the poetic
howlate : —
In auld Kirkcubrie's borough town,
A boon her pillars o' renown, *
In ane bit garret hole sae high,
\Vi' lozzen keeking at the sky,
Alane, half crackit, day by day,
Wons shunner gatherer, Girzey Whay.
'Tis said she was o' extract good,
And that her veins had gentle blood,
But that some tyke betrayed the hizzie,
Which left her mind, ay after, dizzie.
Puir Girzey, wi' her upset chin,
A nedeum gnaws her ay within ;
For ay she's gleboring to hersell,
And cursing some to gang to hell.
Whane'er rejoicing bells do sound.
And flags are flapping a' around.
The patriot, then, dis Girzey play,
Frae her wee lozzen waves awa
Ane pocket napkin on a stafl*.
Which makes the burgess bodies laugh. — &c. &c.
Many act the naturall who are not so ; they play the character
for the sake of deception, yohnie Gim of Auchencairriy was
famous at this ; in his young days, he was one of the greatest
smugglers on the shores of the Solway, and outwitted the most
sagacious khigsvicn. Once while driving from the Isle of
Man, with his little wherry pretty full of contraband goods, he
was seen by a revenue cutter, who gave him chase. AVTien
Johnie saw this, he hove his barrels overside, fixed to a
thick rope, and sank them ; afterwards he took his seat at the
helm, and bade the boy who sailed with him " go into the
fore-scuttle and lie down.*' The cutter came snoring and
firing, but our smuggler sat still in \iv& auld sea coat^ and never
seemed to mind her ; at length the revenue tars brought their
row barge alongside, and damn'd our hero, saying, what " hin-
dered to haul his wind and lie to, when he saw them play-
ing away upon him ? '* " Gude guide us, (quoth Johnnie, with
a great deal of seeming ignorance) if I had ken'd it was
me ye war firing at, I wad hae been terrible flcyed ; " which
NEB NEl 363
answer, and seeing nothing but a stupid looking old man
abroad, convinced the kingsmen that John was doing, or
could do nothing in the smuggling trade. Gude guide us I
was always his favourite exclamation, and he gave it with such
a mystic gravity of face, that the most serious could not help
laughing at him.
Neb o' the Morning — ^That part of the day between day-
light and sun-rising, or sun-light; the neb or nose of an
animal being its front member, so this part of the day, being
its front part, is termed the neb also; now the neb of
any animal is commonly its coldest member, the beak of
the morning is the coldest space of the day. And there
are few who do not love to keep the bed until the neb
gangs aff the moriiing; the coldest time, in cold weather, is
always this time before sun-rise ; it is when the neb is on
the morning that the hoar-frost is produced.
Nedeum — A gnawing pain ; when a com is biting a toe
grievously, that toe is said to be nedeuming ; when a person
considers himself injured by the world, and is seen to shun
society, foster melancholy and misanthropic feelings, that
being is said to have a nedeum gnawing his inwards ; when
he is heard to curse and utter wicked imprecations to
himself, he is then nedeuming,
Neers — The kidneys of animals; neer-strings, those strings
which are connected with the kidneys.
Neets — Young lice, or the eggs of lice. Pouflie^ the muirkirk
name for a louse.
Neety-Cud — A low-lifed fellow who commits mean actions.
Neiveie-nick-nack — A fireside game ; a person puts a
little trifle, such as a button, into one hand, shuts it close,
the other hand is also shut; then they both are whirled
round and round one another as fast as they can, before
the nose of the one who intends to guess what hand the
prize is in ; and if the guesser be so fortunate as to guess
364 NID NOC
the hand the prize is in, it becomes his property ; the whirl-
ing of the fists is attended with the following rhyme : —
** Neiveie, Neiveie, nick, nack,
** What ane will ye take ?
" The right or the wrang ;
** Guess or it be lang,
" Plot awa and plan,
"rilcheatyegiflcan."
NiDDER — The second shoot grain makes when growing ; in dry
seasons it never bursts the nidder ; this and niddering, to pine
and fret, to seem in a withering state, are the same.
NiDDLE — ^To overcome ; he niddkd her, that is to say, he over-
came and robbed her.
NiDGELL — A fat, froward young man ; a stiff lover, one whom
no rival will displace.
NiG-MA-NiES — Unnecessary ornaments.
NiTTERS — A greedy, grubbing, impudent, withered female.
NiTWUDS — Woods of natural hazel, where nuts are found.
NocKET — A mid-day lunch.
Nocks — Little beautiful hills ; Nockshinnie and Nocktannie
used to be favourite nocks of mine ; to these places I would
steal sometimes, when melancholy set sore upon me, and so
get ease.
Whan mirky duds in the south-wast,
Are masking up a blashy blast,
ITie welkin blae to overcast,
And hide the stanis ;
How like they're to the brewings vast,
Whiles o' my haums.
Wild, gloomy, melancholy, mad,
Detesting beauty, sick, and sad,
Wi' passions boiling furious bad.
May nane e'er be,
As I hae been, weak, simple lad.
Bom as ye see.
In vain I try my brain to cool,
'Twad bum within the cauldest pool,
I ramble downcast, like a fool.
By thought oppresl ;
Wi* fancy a' flown out o' rule,
And winna rest.
NOC NOC 365
It winna wi' me here abide,
But darts athwart the ocean's tide,
And flashes through creation wide,
The flighty wight ;
Nor halts where marches do divide
The day and night.
If Nature had na haen a charm.
If had my heart been no sae warm,
Owre keen to burst and take alarm
Frae nought ava,
I might then live 'thout feeling harm,
And grub awa.
My days wad then be ne'er alike,
Nae feelings than wad make me fike.
Then might I, like a young doaf tike.
Bough at the moon ;
Or crazed Billjock ayont the dike.
Play boo and croon.
Pain and remorse, sweet fun and glee.
Wad than l>e ne'er unken'd to me.
In vain might Tibbie's heavenly e'e.
Wink fu' o' love ;
For than nae mair I'd stewed be.
In Cupid's stove.
0 ! wad my passions row mair queem.
My sunless saul delight to gleam.
How happy wad I down life's stream
Gae soom awa ;
Without a restless, hellish dream,
My saul to thraw.
Then, like the south-wast, whan 'tis urey.
Divested of its wrath and fury,
Wi' sunbeams sooking blue and pure, ay.
The saut green wave ;
I'd be dear, oh I wi' nought to hurry.
Or gar me rave.
But, thanks to God, wha ne'er forgot
An humble craving sinner's lot,
'Thout pouring forth the antidote
For its relief;
A cure for this vile nether spot.
And a' its grief.
On every sorrowfu' occasion
1 flee to him for consolation.
No wi' a lang and cauld narration
O' ills to mend ;
But shortly, simply, my sad station,
Sae makes an end.
366 NOC NUI •
Whan meiklc's asked for, little's gien,
And lang petitions ay ill ta'en,
The thing is natural, I ween,
Sae wants nae proof ;
There's nought like skelping a* things clean,
And warm aff loof.
Religion soothes my weary saul,
l^y it alane on yirth I crawl,
And fronteth ilka bitter brawl,
*Thout dread or fear ;
Ay hoping broyliments will quail
Frae year to year.
Indeed, now I am not near so much troubled with this
distemper as 1 once was. When in my teens, I often thought
it was going to overset ray mind altogether.
NoGGAN — Walking steadily, and regularly nodding the head.
Noggins — Little wooden dishes.
NoGGS — The handles of a scythe-sned^ or scythe-shank.
NoiTLED — Intoxicated with spirits.
NoiTS — Little rocky hills ; also any little rocky rise.
NooF — Snug ; sheltered from the blast.
NooLS — Small horns, which are not connected with the skull-
bone.
NooPiNG — Walking with eyes on the ground, and head
nodding.
Nor ART — When the wind blows any way out of a north-
erly airt^ or direction, it is said to be blowing from the
Norart,
NoRWASi'ERT — A bitter blast ; any thing of a mde cold nature
is said to be a Norwastcrt.
NouDS — Little fish, about the size of herrings, with a horny
skin, common in the Galloway seas.
NuBBiE — An unsocial person, worldly, yet lazy.
NuiST — A blow. When two are boxing, and one gets the
other's head beneath his arm, he is said to nnist him with
the other hand : also fiuist means -a greedy, ill-disposed,
ignorant person.
NUR ORI 367
NuRGLE or NuRG — A short-squat, little, savage man.
NuRGLiNG — A person of a nurring, or cat disposition.
Nyaph — The female nymphae, Clytoris, Pubes, &c.
Nyargle — A person fond of disputation, yet reasons like a
fool. Nyargling — wrangling ; threaping — nonsense. That
being is a nyargle^ who —
** Whenever there gets up dispute
** Will still change sides, and try confute ; "
as was the plan of Doughty Hudibras, who, like the
Dominie —
"That even tho* vanquished, he would argue still."
Nyatterin — To keep chattering when others are speak-
ing; a person who wants to hear not anything, but wants
a hearing ; a pest to society. All should obey the natural
orders of Allan Ramsey — " Learn to steek the gab awee, and
think afare we speak.*'
o.
O ! Ay !— O yes.
Obering — A hint ; an inkling of something important, yet
thought a secret. " I gat the obering o* a wadding that's
to happen soon ; " means, I got hint of such like, in a crafty
way.
Oho ! — An exclamation of joy, or rather a joyous assent to the
truth of the tale a telling ; thus, if it is said that such a one
has got baud o' a rich hizzie for a wife, " Oho ! faith, that
cheel has done weel," is the answer.
OozLiE — A person is said to be oozlie looking, when he has on
a long beard, unbrushed clothes, and dirty shoes, as is the
case with those who love the " late debauch."
Orishen — A term of reproach, for a savage-behaved in-
dividual ; probably this word is from the French ourson, a
bear's cub.
368 ORP OUT
Orpie-leaves — The leaves of a plant called Orpy ; good for
healing cuts.
Orts — Food for horses ; the seed of hay and com mingled
together.
OsHEN — ^A mean person ; from the French oisouy a ninny.
OuNCLE-wEFGHTS — A general sweeping name for all the
weights that are used about farm-houses, for the purposes
of weighing; these weights are generally sea-stones of
various sizes, regulated to some standard. And the Gal-
loway folks have been long famed for giving down-
weights^ or something more than enough, of any thing
they either sell by weight or measure. I once heard a
tolerable joke respecting this. A person came to an
honest gude wifty and wanted a pun o' butter, but, as bad
luck would have it, the punstane was lost, so she did not
know how in all the world she should serve her customer ;
the ounde-iveights were rummaged over and over, and none
less than the mealstotie quarter could be found, and with
this she saw it was impossible to weigh a pound ; while
pondenng the matter as a gude i^ife ponders, the tangs
(tongs) struck her fancy. " O ! (quo she) I ken how
we'll manage now ; the gude man brought hame a pair
o' new tangs the ither night, which weighed in the smiddy
just twapun ; sae stand by and I'll soon weigh ye wi' them
your butter." She then opened the legs of the tongs, put
one leg in the scale against the butter, and let the other
hang out. The beam got a fair swing, and so weighed a
douce Galloway pound of butter.
OuTCA — A wedding feast given by the master to a favourite
servant ; also a small enclosure to drive housed cattle a
while of the day to, so that they may snuff the cauller air,
OuTiNS — Tours from home ; young people are all fond of this,
too fond whiles, seeing the truth of the auld proverb, that a
" Rolling stane will never gather fog."
OUT OWR 369
OuTLERS — Cattle which are wintered in the fields. — See
Ydlnowt
OuTRiNG — A channlestone term, the reverse of Inring^ (which
see). To take an ouiring is generally allowed to be more
difficult than taking an inring,
OuTSHOT — Any thing shoved or shot out of its place farther
than it should be ; a bilge in a wall.
OwLiNG — Looking like an owl.
OwRE BoGGiE — People are said to be married in an oivre
boggle manner, or to have an 07ure baggie wedding when they
do not go through the regular forms prescribed by the
national kirk. There is some sweetness, I should think, and
gallantry felt in weddings of this kind ; there is something
glorious in a trip to Gretna Green with a lovely lady : staying
and getting quietly noosed at home is no work — I relish the
aivre baggie system. Those who plot in secret are called auid
baggie fowk ; and displaced priests, who used to bind people
contrary to the canon laws, though agreeable to nature's, were
designated auid baggies. There was an ancient song, I believe,
of the name of the Ou^re Baggie, burned at Edinburgh in the
turbulent times ; this song is lost, so think the antiquaries.
OwRGAUN Rapes — Ropes put over stacks to hold down the
thatch ; the vertical ropes into which are wove the bridiers,
or those which run horizontal.
OwRiM AND OwRiM — When a bandwun d shearers meet
with a flat of growing grain, not portioned out to them by
riggSy the shearing of this is termed an awrim and au*rim
shear, or over-him and over-him. It is a bad plan of
reaping, as when the reapers have not equal shares, some
will work and some not; some take more than they
should, others not so much. A fellow from Green Erin
thus exclaimed once against this mode — " Hoh ! bother-
ation, rigim and rigim was a pleasant shear, but oivrim
2 A
370 OWR PAD
and murim was the devil; but Barney can do any thing
sweet and azy. WTiat's the use of a fellow, if he is not a hell
of a fellow, and has driv a hearse through all County Down,
with his hair close tied ? "
OwRTER — Farther over. Zye ororter, lie farther over.
OwRWALES — The refuse of any thing selected ; the goats when
the sheep are taken away.
Oxter — The arm-pit; also to walk arm in arm. Oxtering
alangy walking away arm in arm.
OxTERLEE — An old fellow of an extremely crabbit nature, who
once lived at this place in Galloway ; he unluckily \i-as a
weaver, a trade that by no means agrees with a bad temper ;
when a thread would have at any time broke, he would leap
down through the web with his feet. The wretch also loved
drink, and to beat his wife when he was intoxicated ; while
going home from the alehouse once, he was heard saying to
himself, " If she's gane lye I'll lick her ; and if she be up, 111
lick her," viz. his poor i^ife. Mercy on us, this was giving
her no chance for life !
OvEZ ! — Hear ye ! The word is from the French oyez ; old
imperative of the verb ouiry to hear. It is used in France as
a call to attention, before proclamations are read in public
places ; anciently it was used in our country for the same
purpose. Oyez, and sometimes a-vyez, was heard sounding
at fairs, as common as " Roll away, sport away, and be
handy," is at this day by Irish flingsticks and wheel d fortune
sharpers ; at present, old men use it after mentioning things
of consequence, as " my son gat a rich wife, oyez^ — " The
fallow's worth siller, oyez^ — " It's a gude farm, oyez^^ and so
forth.
P.
Paddert — Padded. Thus a road through the snow is padderd,
when it has been often trod.
PAD PAL 371
Paddled Rounall — In large fields where great flocks of oxen
graze together, they have places where they often assemble
and seem to amuse themselves, following each other round
and round, like buoyant bodies in an aquatic vortex. The
cause for these animals thus employing themselves at in-
tervals, I have never learned ; it proceeds neither from heat,
nor from troublesome insects. The brute creation often
astonishes man with scenes which seem full of sense ; this is
instinct : but what I have been here speaking about surprises
him with a mystical something he cannot describe. These
circular spots then shorn of grass are termed paddled
rounalls.
Paddock — A small farm ; also a machine shaped like a frog,
for carrying large stones.
Pad-Saddle — A soft seat for females to ride on horseback
behind their husbands.
Padjell — An old veteran pedestrian ; one who has often beat
at foot races — these races were once very common in
Galloway. A servant of Lord Ken more beat the whole
country at running for years. The night previous to a New
Galloway fair, his lordship sent his man away to Edinburgh
on an errand, that he might be out of the way, and not
shame the fair for a season with his swiftness \ off went
the fellow, but returned in time to run and gain the prize as
usual, though he had run 180 miles in twenty-four hours
just before it. Prior to the invention of post offices, all lords
and barons had their couriers, and this fellow must have
been a fleet one.
Painches — The paunches of animals — the guts.
Paising — ^Weighing anything by the feel of the hand — ^poising.
Palace-Tree — The place in Galloway, near the village
of Gatehouse, whereon stood a palace in the days of yore ;
a deep ditch surrounds a level space containing about
two acres — on this stands the ruined edifice ; over this
372 PAP PAP
ditch, which is about thirty feet, and filled with water, a
draw bridge yet "^ remains in perfection. TTiis palace is
thought to have belonged to our olden Scotch kings ; and
suited them for a Holyrood, when in the southern parts of
the dominion.
Pap — To let anything fall lightly, is to let it pap.
Papple — A noxious seed which grows amongst wheat;
extremely prolific
Papple, the Speaver — On my life, I cannot pass this onginal
in silence, for few men would I rather spend an hour with
than Mr. Papple, the speaver ; he personally knows almost
every one in the south of Scotland ; and is deeply acquainted
with the manners of his native country ; he seems as if he
had gone up and down the interior of the bosoms of men
with a lantern and candle, and seen all the hidden springs
of the mysterious mind. He goes regularly round the
country, castrating and keeping the brute creation in order ;
all news hears he, and what he hears never forgets : methinks
he has all by heart that he has heard these fifty years ; ask
him of any particular respecting his country, either of one
thing or another, and if he knows nothing about it, it is
strange. WTien at home, he is to be found at New Galloway ;
but he has a home everywhere in the country, and had I a
house, that should also be one of his homes ; there might he
dawner in on an evening, lay by dicky on the press head,
throw off his iaggans, draw into the ingie, take tea, toddy,
what not, with the utmost comfort ; then to the pipe, and
crack how folk in ntoor countries were doing, and how the
famous and worthy Provost d Neu* Galloway was coming
on ; how sheep smeared and sold ; how ^iel^ honest
man, did ; and my friend Dr. Trotter, if writing any good
tales, or if Barbour had anything ready for the press;
how Kenmore was doing, and how the Miss Dayells were
looking; if the Lammas spate made the brig totter; or
PAR PAU 373
if the tip premium was good, and whether Manson had any
old brandy ; such and such things would be through hands,
before Mr. P. and me would part ; aye, and five hundred
things more, which have not been dreamt of
Partons — Crab fish ; for more particulars, see the article
Roddock.
Pasper — Samphire. When taken and eat green from the
heuchSy makes persons as hungry as a hawk, consequently a
healthy herb ; it is not easily obtained in some places, no
more than it is on Dover Cliffs,
Pat and Plain — A downright honest way of speaking.
Paul Jones, ^he Pirate. — ^The late celebrated sea robber ; a
Gallovidian, I am rather sorry to say, but he was a clever
devil, had strong talents of the infernal stamp ; he was a
short thick little fellow, above five feet eight in height, of a
dark swarthy complexion. Now I am going to say somewhat
of this fellow, and all I say I think is truth, for I have it from
the lips of many who personally knew him, and all about his
singular ways. He was a common sailor for several years,
out of the port of Kirkcudbright, and was allowed to be un
matched on that coast for skill in sea matters ; he was a pilot
of the first kind, was quick at conception, and a prophet at
foretelling the coming of storms ; and when tempests might
catch the bark he was in, he dreaded them not, but, like
Falconer's Rodmand, was
<(
First in action — in retreat the last."
Yet, though a famous seaman, his mess-mates generally disliked
him ; he was of a quick, fiery temper, and of a mad ambitious,
aspiring nature ; and when roused, he cared not what he did,
but would have knocked down all who came in his way,
with the first weapon he fell in with ; a capstern-bar was his
favourite cudjell, and once being beset with a press-gang^ in
Liverpool, he laid three dead on the deck, and dashed the
374 PAU . PAU
rest overside his sloop, into the Salihause Dock. Having
got the command of a pretty large vessel belonging to
Kirkcudbright, he set sail with her to America, for a caigo of
tobacco ; while crossing the wide Atlantic, one of the crew,
a young lad of fair promise, having some how or other
irritated him, the devilish monster ran to a pot of pitch
boiling on the deck, and flang a ladle-full of the horrid fluid
about the youth, who, in desperation with the pain, leaped
overboard, into the gulf stream, and was seen^ no more.
The Earl of Selkirk, hearing of this diabolic act of Paul
Jones, threatened, that if ever he came back to the country,
he should receive his reward in punishment for the same.
Such news reaching the horrid captain, as he lay with
his ship off Long Island, New York, gave him the first
hint of changing his mode of life ; having got a crew he
could depend on in every infernal enterprize, and having
turned such as did not suit him adrift, he steered out a
pirate, bent on bloody deeds, scouring the ocean in all
directions, and taking prizes and property to great amount :
it was now neck or nothing with him, so he brought his
mighty talents fairly into action. Ships of all nations
dreaded him ; the name of Paul Jones struck terror into
thousands, and he was frequently thought, like CrumwhulVs
gib cat, to be where he ^'as not. Having captured, at
one time and another, a large fleet, he became quite a
piratic Commodore, and 'was more severe on Britain thaji
on any other nation, and most favourable to the French ;
the latter soon becoming acquainted with his kindness,
offered him one of their highest naval situations, which
was channel pilot, the which he accepted, and became
a great favourite at the court of France. It was just
about this stage of his career, that he made his attack
upon Auid Scotland^ to be revenged on the Earl of
Selkirk, for his threat towards him. He brought his
fine ship of war, the Serapis, to an anchor, at the mouth
PAU PAU 375
of his native river Dee, one beautiful summer morning, about
forty-five years ago, and sent his barge, manned and armed,
to S^. Marys IsU^ for the purpose of catching his Lordship,
who luckily was not at home that day. After surrounding
the mansion, and making search, the pirates came off dis-
appointed, but took tlie family silver plate with them, the
which they, after a time, returned, accompanying the same
with a singular letter, in which was notified, that if his lord-
ship had been with him, after he left the Dee, he would have
witnessed a fine sea-fight between him and the Ranger,
British frigate : this was a severe bout ; the pirates beat her
off, but did not follow up their capture. What he would
have done with his lordship had he caught him, has been a
question ; it is thought that he would ransomed him for the
value of his estate, and so caused his utter ruin. Before
arriving at the Dee, he had called at Whitehaven^ a town that
had once huffed him, and having spiked the cannons on the
battery there, he attempted to set the place on fire, but the
houses being all of free-stone, he could not get it to blaze
so well as he wished; such traits, in the character of
Paul Jones, prove him a being of an hellish disposition ;
for those men of a revengeful nature, are evidently the
most horrid wretches on earth. Having rounded Scotland
and visited the Firth of Forth, he returned to Brest — at-
tended on the French navy, and had them frequently on the
point almost of starting to the invasion of Britain ; falling
sick, however, he retired to Paris, or somewhat in its
neighbourhood, where he died, a young man rather, not
fifty years of age ; he died very rich, and all his gold went
to the French treasury ; whether any of his heirs in Gallo-
way could come at any of this, I know not. He was the
father of a natural son, by a married lady, the which son
yet lives, but is ratherly a day loch, Paul Jones seems to
be unrivalled as a pirate; his undaunted courage, his
penetrating judgment, and his ssvage temper, befitted him in
376 PAU PEA
an extraordinary manner for the damnable trade. It is
laughable to look back at the sensation he caused amongst
the rural bodies of Galloway, when he brought his ship upon
their lonely shores; some armed themselves with scythes,
some with pitch-forks, old guns too were looked at, while
many fled and hid themselves in Rossens d whuns^ caves, and
wild mosses. A row-boat went down the river, heavily
armed, the evening he stood out to sea, for the purpose of
intercepting him with their tale of it, if he dared to return ;
when this boat came in sight of the Oyster Craigj it was
thought to be Paul yones* armed barge, so a heavy firing was
opened on it, and as the tide was filling, the rock in time
became covered with water, so the fluttering fancies of the
borough-bravadoes conceiving that the baige was down, they
returned in a joyous flight home ; next day they went back,
and on examining the rock, found it battered bitu with the
leaden bullets, since which time it has been termed the
FrenchmatCs Rock,
Pawchle — A frail old tJbdy, seeming, as it were, to paw for
assistance ; also, a person of low stature, rather silly.
Pawmie — A name for the Knave at Cards ; oftener ^ack.
Pawt — To paw with the feet ; she never gaed a panft, she
never moved her feet.
Peaner — A cold-looking, naked, trembling being — small of size.
Peanerflee — A light-looking craw d a body; one like
Auld Ned, who looks like taking the air. Ned is really
a wonderful soul, and singular enough in his way ; an hon-
est body, full of life, and takes a glass of good whisky
with any man ; his intimmers are of the best kind, he can
be drunk and sober three times in a day ; can drink as
much as would fill three strong men full ; tarr ar a, tautra
bubus, big bull 7vaggie, botu, boiv, bow, is Ned's song,
which he gives with a scraigh when fou ; indeed, he is
PEA PED 377
the finest scraigher I ever heard ; he has no care, and as
for the kicks of the world and fortune, he values them
nothing.
Peanies — Female turkeys.
Peatclaig — A place built with stones to hold peat
Peatnuik — A nook to hold peats, generally a dark comer ;
it is the prison in country schools for culprits and dunces,
and is the first gaol of many that bad boys are frequently put
into. In a worthy dominies diary ^ the following funny day's
work appears : — " 24th May — A little restive the greater part
of the night, was often lying on my right side, often on my
left : started at six, said prayers, washed face, and mounted
hill to look about me ; a fine breeze S.S.W., thin clouds over
the sun's face. Saw the fox steal into the wood with a hen
between his jaws ; thought at first it was my white duck, was
agreeably surprised on finding it was not she. Found a
lark's nest, and four young ones in it ; put up my ffiark^ so
that I might see it again ; thought about taming a lark, then
thought again there might be despotism in me if I did so,
laughed at the idea ; took breakfast, eat three eggs, wife a
little sulky; opened school at ten, looked the key to Hutton's
Arithmetic, found the boys riotous, put three to ^t peatnuik;
opened a new Latin class, saw a beauty in Horace I had not
seen before. Boys still riotous, put two more to the
peatnuik; plied my cane freely, broke it o'er a young
rascal's head, had a sorry day's teaching ; let the school out
an hour sooner than usual, looked at my lancets, went and
bled a female friend ; met at her house a young man from
Edinburgh, a doctor, found much medical knowledge in him ;
came home, wife in better humour, planted some cabbages,
took the cow to the bull ; " so ends that day's principal
transactions.
Pechan — The belly ; peeking^ blowing ; pech, to blow.
Pedrall — ^A child beginning to walk ; paidie.
378 PEE PEN
Peelaflee — A light person, and not heavily clothed.
Peelaneets — Potatoes, boiled with their skins on.
Peeling — Travelling in a ^^indy, wild day, with light clothes
on.
Peelocks — The same as Peelaneets ; murphies needing peeling.
Peg — The ball shinie players play with.
Pegpie — The magpie ; pees-weep^ the lapwing.
Peg Puff — A young woman resembling an old one in her
manners.
Pellocks — Porpoises ; seen before a storm.
Pen — An old saucy man, with a sharp nose.
Penn — A sewer ; see Rummling Sire,
Penpunt — Waefii cheel^ as he used to term himself, when
running the country. For Penpunt was a beggar of strange
character, and because he belonged to the dauchen o
Penpunt^ from it he had his name, and w^ell was known
for long all over the country. Though pretty well liked
by folks as a poor man, he was a greedy wretch, and
outwalked all other vagrants that crossed his path ;
could walk between fifty and sixty miles every day, and
call at all houses that came in his way ; on entering a
house he used always to sing out — "Here comes Auld
Penpunt, waefu' cheel, gie him his awmouSy and let him
rin again ! " He understood the art of begging well, could
tell a tolerable tale, and sing a smutty Galloway snatch,
such as the Bonny Muirhen ; and also shew that he
knew more than one would have thought A brade blue
bonnet wore he, ane bonnet like a 7vinno7ifing u*echt ; a
plaid was always fanked round his shoulders, so with a
large rung or bourdoun in hand, rambled Pefipunt ; his
wife and family would never eat any of his awmous meal.
On a brother of his who had a small farm, he often
insisted to take the mealpowk by the string, and follow
PEN PET 379
him, as his trade was much better than farmmg ; he would
often say, " that begging was not worthy the following gin
ane cudna turn a crown a day at it" He departed this life,
waefu' man, about two or three years since, and was
honoured with some notice, in the obituary of a Dum-
fries newspaper —
Tho' his tongue was na blunt,
Tho' he bore a strong runt,
Death dang to the de'il the queer shaver Penpunl.
Sae he's taen frae his trade,
And his bonnet sae brade,
And lies here 'neath the swade,
Waefu' body Penpimt. —
Penpunts Epitaph,
Peter a Dick's Peatstack — A favourite dancing step with the
peasantry, performed by giving three flegs with the feet, and
two stamps with the heel alternately; such is the simple
dance, the movement of the feet correspond to these words
when said at the same time ; indeed, the noise the feet makes
seems to speak them — Peter a Dick, Peter a Dick, Peter a
DicHs Peatstack, It is commonly the first step dancing
masters teach their pupils; the A, B, C, &c. of dancing
science, when the scholars become tolerable at beetling it ;
they are next taught to fleup through the side-step ; then
yack on the Green, SJiawintrewse, and other hornpipes, with
the Highland Fling, mayhap ; these dances are all got pretty
well by the feet in \^^ first motith, with sketches oi foursome,
eightsome reels, and some country dances; but if the
scholars attend the fortnight again of another month, they
proceed at great length into the labyrinths of the art. A
light heeVd sooter is generally the dancing dominie ; he fixes
on a bam in some clauchan to show forth in ; he can both
fiddle and dance, at the same time ; can cut double quick
time, and trible Bob Major; he fixes on, and publishes
abroad when his trial night is to come on, so the young
folks in the neighbourhood doff their clogs, and put on
their kirk-shoon, these being their dancing pumps; off
38o PET PET
they go to the trials which, if it be a good turn-out, he
tries no more, but begins teaching directly ; if not, he has
a second^ and even a third trial ; well, in the first month,
as has been stated, such dances are taught ; in the second,
the '^ Flowers of Edinburgh," mayhap ; Sweden and
Bclilis Marches^ with other hornpipes, and country dances
many ; such as the Yillwife and her Barries — Mary Grey —
The wun that shook the barley, &c with the famous
Bumpkin Brawley ; yes, and they will even dare, some
times, to imitate our Continental neighbours over the
water, in their waltzing, alimanging, and Cotillion trade;
ay, and be up with the Spaniards too, in their quadrilles,
borellos, and falderalloes of nonsense ; so out-taught, they
become fit to attend house-heatings, volunteer and masonic
balls, what not Partners are taken to the pracieez-
ings and balls; these girls, whom boys chose thus to
partner them, are commonly beloved by them for ever
afterwards; indeed, love is first felt by thousands at danc-
ing-schools; to those sweet dears, ribbons, lockets, and
strings d beads, are brought, to adorn their fair bodies. Now,
after all, I am not meaning to laugh at this art, nor do
I intend to praise it. Dancing is a famous amusement,
but, like every art, I have known some better at it who
were never taught than those who were ; who could give
a hooh and a crack with their heels, in a wonderful funny
original manner.
Peter's Pleuch — The constellation Ursa Major, or the
big bear ; the twa big stars d the soam point to the
Pole star.
"Lang Peter's Pleugh lift hintings round the Pole."
Walla Poem,
Peit-davs — Good days, among foul weather. A pet is
always a dangerous creature; thus a child, petted by its
I)arents, plays the devil some day or other in the world ;
PEY PIK 381
a sheep petted^ is apt to turn a duncher ; and a friend,
dawted too much, is likely to become an adder.
Peyay — The call milk-maids make for calves to come to
their mothers.
Peyvee — ^A strange nonsensical bustle, for no end ; a cere-
monious fluster ; some people are always in a peyvee throng
seemingly to the last degree, yet doing little ; still in
a breathless state, without a moment's time to spare to
speak to an honest man, who bicker quick along the streets,
and have brains yi/// of emptiness.
Pick and Chuse — Select, and stand by the selected ; to find
a wife, in the wide world of women, then keep by her.
PiCKiNG-CAUVE — Cows are said to pick-cauvey when they
have miscarriages; that is to say, bring forth their young
before the proper period ; when one cotv in a flock takes
this geCy generally more of them do. Farmers, to prevent
this, take good care not to irritate their cows, by bringing
dogs amongst them, or shedding blood of oxen on their
pasture.
PiCKTHANK — A talepyet ; one who bites behind backs.
PiEiNG — Looking steadfastly at some object ; like a dog,
when he sees ground a stirring by a mole in it; how he
looks, making his head move from side to side, before he
pounces.
PiEPHER — An extremely useless creature, probably a cypher ;
a nothing in a common-wealth, such is a piephering
monkey.
PiGGS — Porcelain ware, Piggs and whustleSy a man's foolish
furniture, nick nacksy which are always in the way. Figg-
wiveSy females who trudge the country with trackpot warcy
bonds y plates, &c.; they are only one remove from common
beggars, and mostly more disliked.
PiKET-BODiES — People narrowly disposed, who grub and pick
pikingSy food left after a feast " Dogs are flung banes to
382 PIL PIR
pike!^ A beggar man once got a bone from a miser to pick,
and was obsen'cd on the sunny side of a dyke, piking it with
his specks on, which bespoke the charitable donor.
Pillion — A sack filled with soft matter for people to ride on ;
also pillions are sacks and budgets full of soft stuffs.
PiNGLE — To strive to kemp, to compete ; pingle-pans^ little pans
for preparing food for babes in.
PiNKERTON — A person beneath expectation, one with a
small mind, with only a pink^ or small gleam of light in
it, such as Sawnie Corbie, who, being at a parish kirk
once, with a " split new suit o' claes on," after the preach-
ing was 07vrey a 7tfat day came on ; Sawnie, loath to have
his clothes steeped^ flung them off his back, bundled them
in his plaid, and skelped home mither naked; such is a
pinkerion, oi pinkie.
Pinkle-Pankle— The sound of liquid in a bottle.
Piper's Co' o' Cowend — A very celebrated Gallovidian
cave in the parish of Colvend ; it is situated on a lonely
shore, and frequently is heard the sound of the bagpipe
therein ; whiles the wild pibroch is a merry, but oftener a
melancholy air ; some think the piper the dnil^ others
fancy the musician to be some kind carline, who reveres
the memory of departed Highlanders, who were andently
smothered in the cave ; there is also a bottomless well
in it, at least one which lead and cord hath not yet
sounded.
Pirnies — Night-caps, woven of various coloured threads,
such as those bearing the name of Killmarnock, The
Laird o' Broomcleuch was a bachelor, and for many years
was troubled with a swelling in the breast, so that the old
gentleman could scarcely bestir himself any where ; so his
friends gathered about him like corby-craws, and one took
away this part of his property, another that, until the
laird's house became almost entirely empty, or, as he said
PIR PIT 383
himself, " they herried me." One day while he was sitting
alone in his mansion, reflecting about its emptiness, a
monkey which he kept, and which his relations did not
think worthy to carry away, came frisking about him, leaped
on to his shoulder, and plucked off his ///7//V, making off
with the booty as fast as it could spang. The laird, at this,
fell into a tremendous fit of laughter, which so much
agitated the swollen breast, that it burst in the interior with
an awful gush, the which bilious matter he vomited up, and
in a short time was able to move about amongst his friends,
and thank them for the kindness and attention they had
shewn him during his illness, by desiring them, in not a very
pleasant tone, to return him every article which they had
forcibly purloined ; afterwards he made a will, in which, I
believe, there was no mention made of those who so kindly
attended his sick bed ; such is always the fate of the over-
greedy —
For if they glie and CTasp at a*
The devil ha'et they*ll get ava*.
PiRR — Blood is said to //rr from the wound made by a lancet;
a girl is said to look pirr when gaily dressed. Pirr is ilso a
sea-fowl with a long tail and black head, its feet are not
webbed ; it flies above the bosom of the calm sea, and when-
ever it sees any small fish or fry, dives down through the air
on them, crying ^^pirr!'^ It lays five eggs, somewhat like
ttivhit eggs in size and colour.
PiRKUs — Any kind of perquisite.
PiSHMiNNiES — Ants; pish means piss; pishminnie tammocks^
or hillansy ant-hills ; pish also means a heavy fall of rain.
PiSK — A dry-looking, saucy girl ; pisket-grass, dried, shrivelled
grass ; any thing withering dry is pisky ; to behave dryly to
a friend is to behave pisket.
Pitter-patter — All in a flutter; sometimes pittie-pattie^ the
movements of a perturbed heart.
384 PLO POU
Plodderan — ^Toiling night and day almost ; the first thing
that disgusted me with a farmer's life, and what disgusts
thousands at it, is the not having a moment of time that can
be said to be our own.
Plotted— Boiled, or ratherly plunged in boiling water.
Plumb — ^The noise a stone makes when plunged into a deep
pool of water; people guess as to a pool's depth by this plumb,
Plumrocks — Primroses ; in some places pimroses.
PocKiAWRD — Marked with the small-pox.
PocKSHAKiNGS — ^The youngest children of families.
PoDDS — The boxes wherein nature preserves the seeds of
various plants ; a bean podd, that holds five beans, and Sipea
podd, which contains nine peas, are considered to be sonsy,
and put up above the lintle of the door by maidens, and the
first male that enters after they are so placed will either be
their husband or like him.
PoRR — To stab ; the noise a sharp instrument makes, darting
into the flesh.
PoRTUALE — A singular song, commonly sung about Christmas.
See White boys.
Poss — To squeeze wet clothes in a tub, to wash by squeezing.
PossEY — A large party of people all of a mind.
Pouching — The trick of pocketing; if a lady shows us
her garden, and we fall to the plucking of finit and eating
it, before she grants permission, do we not behave rudely ?
and if we pull and pocket, our manners become abomi.
nable. In truth, pouching is a gentle method of stealing,
and I would as soon become a real thief at once as a petty
poucher. Some people, though, have a natural propensity
this way, and others can look at every thing, but touch no-
thing; but those who pouch at funerals are the most
hateful race of pouchers. One in particular, which 1 will
not trouble myself to write his detestable name, whenever
POU PRE 385
the sen^ice came round to him, he looked for the largest
piece of short-bread or plumb-cake on the servety seized
on it with a sharkish manner, took a bite of one comer,
and pouclud the rest. The wine or drink with which
he was served to, baffled him to play the same trick with
it; but he pouched or painched it every drop, another
way. Once some wags espied my gentleman very throng
at a wealthy funeral, and as the burial folk had to come
down a straight stair after they lifted^ they made up a
plan to there jostle him, and ease his large wallets of their
contents, which they accomplished very handsomely, by
some going before and others behind, the upper pushing, the
under stelling^ while an expert hand brought out the cargo,
consisting, no doubt, of sundries, all of which were never
missed by him until he came home ; but on his there dis-
covering that the treasury was extracted, he got such a shock
of remorse, as never allowed him to pouch any more.
Poullie-Hens — Plucked-looking hens; poullie to look
plucked like; poul^ a tnollan^ a pole.
Pout — To start up on a sudden, as something from under the
water ; to po^o up^ to shew the head, pow being the head ;
pout'Womiy the worm with the head, the grub.
PoUTREV — Poultry ; pouts, young game birds.
Pow — The head ; pow-heads, young frogs.
There's little wit in the pow.
That hauds the cannle to the lowe.
Auld Say,
Preen-cuds — Pin-cushions, places to hold preens, and corking-
preens,
Preest-cat — An ingleside game ; a piece of stick is made red
in the fire ; one hands it to another, saying,
" About wi' that, about wi' that,
** Keep alive the preest-cat."
Then round is handed the stick, and whomsoever's hand it
goes out in, that is in a wad, and must kiss the crook, the
2 B
386 PRE PRI
cUps^ and what not, ere he gets out of it ; anciently, when
the priesfs cat departed this life, wailing began on the
country side, as it was thought it became some supernatural
being, a witch, perhaps, of hideous form ; so to keep it
alive was a great matter.
"Lilly Cuckoo, Lilly Cuckoo,
** Sticks and stanes, lie at thy weary banes,
"Ifthoufa\ for a* I blaw,
" Lilly Cuckoo, Lilly Cuckoo."
This rhyme is common in the priest-cat sport toward the
border.
Priest-Dridder — Dread of priests. Not long ago people in
the country were very much in awe of their priests ; they
considered them people supematurally endowed, fit to
lay gJiaistSy talk with boggles and spreets, shake hands with
death, and do many other such wonders. Them and
their sessions, their cutty-stools, and full bottonid wigs,
hollo7v grams, and dranting prayers, made the fowk at
times almost swarf with a dridder or dread. But Bums,
and other clear-brained fellows arose in time, and after
stripping them to the buff, let the bleer-^ed see that the
priests were like it/ier fowk, and many of them even
worse. I give the clergymen of Scotland no claim at all
to the better light now beaming in the country, for they
wished to keep all in darkness, rather than otherwise, " brutes
being much easier managed than men ; " but in spite of their
clouds we got suns, whose rays penetrate them. I am no
foe at all to them, as they are now-a-days ; but am far firom
obeying the old proverb, " that corbies and clergy are a shot
right kittled I feel no quatns of conscience in speaking
about them what I think, whenever they chance to come in
my way. Though a greedy enough squady yet stiU I take
some pleasure in going to church to hear them preach
now and then ; but for dread they give me none, nor can
they give any to a manly person ; a black coat and a blue
one causing the same sensations of dridder.
PRI PSA 387
Prigging — Higgling in market-making ; some merchants alter
not the price of their goods, let the buyer prigg as he
may. I think, however, there is something natural in a
seller to fall a little in the first value he lays on to the
purchaser.
Prouds — Pricks ; proddledy pricked ; the same nearly with
proitled.
Proitled — To stir after a pushing manner, as we do when we
wish to rouse burntrouts out of water-rat holes : we proitle
them out from beneath the overhanging brows with the but-
end d the fish-wan,
Proker — Poker, for stirring fires.
Prog — Cry, at horses when they are wanted to stand still, or,
at least, not to gallop.
Proop — The still small voice of a certain wind-pipe; one of the
children of that strange animal v^h'ichjlies wingless. We hear
of animals broken wnnd, what are these ? viz. those which
breathe quick, which have a kind of asthmatic wheezle ; horses
are sometimes this way, so think that respectabU class of men,
horse-jockies, who are themselves oftener broken ivund, " I
hate stane naigsj^ quoth one the other day, " but waur I
hate them wha lead them.** Broken wun and braking luun
are different though, hech how,
PsALM-siNGiNG BoDiES — Religious folk, of an austere
disposition. When those sacred pieces of poetry, termed
paraphrases, were first introduced into the public worship
of our maker — An old woman, one of these rigid
righteous^ said " They did na taste sae weel in her gab as
the auld psalms o' Davie ; " and to make another trivial
remark, an Irishman who bad been engaged with a farmer
during harvest, was astonished one evening with his master
when he started the psalm, to be sung as a thing prepara-
tory to the taking the bulk. The poor fellow, who had
388 PSA PSA
probably never heard of such a thing, or of the psalms
either, exclaimed, after the family had lilted a verse or
two, probably with all the swing of old Coleshtily or the
Martyrs, " Hoch ! botheration, what kind of singing is
that ? stop, and 1*11 give ye a barr or two of the bleaching
piny To please these holy folk, these psalm-singing
bodies, I may give a few verses, written by a Galloway bard,
guess wha —
THE SOUL OF SORROW.
0 ! my God, why was I bom ?
Why am 1 tantalized so sore ?
Why do 1 wander wild, forlorn.
Along this rocky, roaring shore ?
Grief and woe came every morrow,
And load my humble soul with sorrow.
No friends have I to take my part.
No man will take me in to toil ;
Cold famine's ice begirds that heart
Which once with genuine love did boil ;
1 want that brazen face to borrow ;
Nor can I beg for bursting sorrow.
0 ! lend an ear to what I crave.
To me indulgence once be given ;
1 long to be within my grave.
My heart in dust, my soul in Heaven ;
Then surely 1 would meet a morrow,
Fraught with no melancholy sorrow.
I never injured mortal man.
So far's I know, so far's I think ;
Nor scoffed fair Nature's lovely plan,
Yet bitter drugs I'm doom'd to drink : —
The sun of Fortune shines no morrow
On OrrUs* bewilder'd soul of sorrow.
Was I on some far savage isle
Amid the sea, besouth the line.
There would my gloomy visage smile.
My heart to joy and mirth incline ;
For there I'd hail no murky morrow.
There death would free my soul of sorrow.
With these, my hands, to ope this jail
And set the growling culprit free,
I shall not dare — but wretched trail
Along this path of misery ;
Far better bear life's scowling morrow,
Than an eternity of sorrow.
PUD PUT 389
PuDDOCKS — Frogs. Fuddock'PipeSy a moss herb. Puddock-
stoolsy a kind of long-shanked conical and comical mushroom.
Puddock-reedy the spawn or rid of frogs ; what says the auld
stave —
Puddock-reed is fu' o* e'en.
And every e'e's a pow-head ;
But Nelly's twa beats them clean.
She is a charming pow-head.
PuE o' Reek — A little smoke, or, ratherly the manner smoke
ascends. " The reek's pueing up." " There's no d^pue o'
reek in a' the house." " Whar comes the reek pueing frae ?"
are phrases that I need not explain.
PuiST-BoDiES — People in a comfortable way in this world, or
ratherly having the wherewithal to make them so. Some are
puisty though not contented ; but we cannot be puist unless
we are competently rich ; we ought to be pretty contented,
though not rich. For ray own part, I have been as happy
without a bawbee in my pouchy as I ever was with gawd in it.
Puling, or Peuling — ^The way of a sick animal ; it leaves its
comrades, and gaes peuling about alone — commonly applied
to cattle. PeulSy small bites which sick oxen eat For these
bites nowt seek mosses in the spring, where peuls of green
grass first appear ; to get at them, they frequently lose their
life, and are drowned ; also at this season, they tumble down
heughs while ranging for these peuls, A herd must keep
a sharp look out in the waur time,
PuNSE — To push and strike, as with a stick ; to punse a brock in
his lair, to push, or ratherly striking push, a badger in his
den.
PuTT-GUDE — A man is said to have made his putt-gude, when he
obtains what his ambition panted for ; thus I have got my
putt mside good respecting this book, for all the thousand barrs
flung in its way. This compliment to the land of my home,
I intend, perhaps, on some not very far distant day, to
give, in one large quarto volume, " The Scotc/i Encyclopcediay
390 PYA QUA
or the nahiraly original, and antiquated curiosities of Scot-
land." I have much matter gathered for it ; and hope
every true Scotsman who loves his own wonderful countiy,
will help me with it, as they think best, by giving me hinti,
and singular out-of-the-way whusherings; so, this work is only
the harbinger of one of the same stamp, but on a larger scale;
and I hope Heaven will permit me to make my putt-gude.
Pyardie — One of the many names for the bird Magpie.
PvDLEs — Cones made sometimes of rushes to catch fish with ;
they are set, " whar bums out owre the lynns come i>ouring,"
so the trouts, in coming down the stream, mn into them, and
cannot make a retreat.
Q-
QuAK — To speak like a duck.
QuAKiNQUAWs — or QuowSy or moving quagmire bogs;
some fancy that Jack and the Lantern, alias Will a* the
Wisp, has his habitation in the Quakingquaw, from his
being generally seen in the neighbourhood of such places,
and from his desire to conduct the midnight wanderers
therein ; it is also imagined too, that they are entrances,
as it were, to other strange worlds, where are ever myriads
of fowk, such as were seen in the Cariines d Caimsmoot.
When the method of boring through the soil of a wet bog
was tried, so that the water might sink, and find vent away
in the rocky stratas beneath, a poor superstitious mortal
was standing by once, observing attentively how opera-
tions went on, and when he beheld what every one present
did, that the plan would not answer, he went up to the
borers, and insisted on them {through 7c>it) to go through
with the borer into the world below, and then the waters
would follow. He was not like a certain gentleman, who
loved good liquor, as many do, and who went into an
agricultural society once, when draining land was the order
QUA QUE 391
of the day ; there stood the laird, and listened to one
speech after another, on the benefits which would no doubt
result from such and such sure grounded modes as were
proposed ; at length, getting weary, he exclaimed, " For
God's sake, gentlemen, leave as much water with all your
drainings as will mix a glass o* grog;" which satire ren-
dered all plans useless for that day at least My worthy
original, well known in Galloway by the phrase, " For
faith ye see am saying^^ knew, amongst many other things,
like the late mentioned gentleman, where all the spring
wauls of note were in the country, and their names — the
which information he gave me in the kindest manner, for
which I here, according to the custom of authors, publicly
thank him.
QuALL — Quell, settle, &c.
QuAT — Quit, let alone.
** Whan the rain draps off the hat
** 'Tis fully time for folk to quat,
** Wha on the harrest rig do shear
** Barley, wheat, peas, rye, or beer."
Auld say.
QuAZiE — Disordered somehow ; squeamish, such as after being
intoxicated.
QuEEM — Calm. Queemly, calmly. " The gled glides qucemly
alang ; " the kite glides smoothly along.
** Dream, dream, that the Ocean's queem ;
** Dream, dream, that the moon did beam ;
*' And the morning will hear the waves roar,
*' And the sun through the cluds will not find a bore."
Auld say.
This old concern always brings that lovely verse of Miss
Baillie's into my head, who, by the bye, is ratherly a Galloway
lady ; as also Miss Paton, the sweetest stage-singer I ever
heard —
** Up lady fair, and braid thy hair,
** And rouse thee in tlie breezy air ;
** The lulling stream, will aid thy dream,
" That glitters in the sunny beam."
392 QUI QUI
QuiNTON RuMMLERiRN — A pretty fair Galloway philosopher
and poet, who flourished, according to the book oi Doims-
day, kept by Scoot HutchiCy in the time come fuver^ three
months ago. He was a cronnie while he lived with the
Miller d Minnicivc, and, I believe, married his kUlmofCs
third daughter — the one with the buck-teeth. He was
fond of drinking filthy fluids, and his belly gave birth to
some asks and man-keepers: I do not know that I have
explained Man-keepers \ they are a kind of nimble lizard,
and run about quarry-holes, in warm weather. It is said,
that like the robin-breestie, they are in love with man,
hence their name, and like that bird, no man will hann
them. They are serpent-looking creatures, which he kffp
as it were. Well, this Quinton flashed about Tibby Skarper's
for a few months, but kicked up his heels at last in AM
NecTs antichamber^ after quafhng vitriolic mountcun dew.
He gave me, when living, the meanings of a few rare
words, though I differ with him, in some respects, as
to their import. Thus peelaflee^ he said, was a creature
out of its element ; a dandy attempting to play with men
at the channlestaney for the dandy looks as if the wind had
him peeled, and that he looked as if going to fly. A
being much liker a warm room, sitting by the hip of a
lisping lady, and a simmering trackpot. Peelaflees are
all those who look better on a street than they do in the
country. It is a strange thing that, termed optics ; how
full is it of deception. I wonder those Brewsters, and other
chaps who study it, cannot give us something to prevent
our ien being misled. Thus, some ladies look well in
candle-light, and they all look their best in frosty weather.
Let no man marry a wife in the time oi frost, for when a
thaw comes, she may disgust him. Bullocks look best in
snow : when cattle are transported from " heathy fells to
flowery dells," they have quite a different appearance ; ay,
ay. ** Brocks look best catching bumclocks ; " situation is
QUI QUI 393
eveiy thing. On the fore ground of a Scotch dinner, the
haggis should show his hurdles ; and on the back the
whusky grey-beardy,^^ But to Quinton, as a philosopher,
he said / was a fool, and he would prove it as fair as ever
a mathematician proved Euclid's fifth in first to be Pons
AssinoruMy or the Asses' Bridge ; but I said it was needless
to prove what all my acquaintance knew to be a y^ ; and
that the world would say some day / was a damned cinder
fallow^ one who would do what Archimedes could not do
— make this very earth tremble in her orbit. The old mill-
iviighty and speckglass-grinder, said, if he had a fulcrum
he could do this, as he had a lever ready. Now, I have
found the fulcrum, which is my mighty — I was just going
to add genius, when Quinton struck me beneath the lug,
with a hazle-rufig, cut in Plunton wud, and laid me sprawling
on Kirkcubrie's auld causey, just at Christafs Coriur So
farewell to him and his philosophy. Let us view him as a
poet, and firstly then —
MAGARLAA, THE INDIAN CHIEF, TO HIS TORTURING
FOES.
At last youVe, by a crafty turn,
Magarlaa clutched all alone ;
Then fire feed, his nerves come bum,
And roast the flesh from off the bone.
Why be so long with your death song,
Come, set you to your tortures strong.
Then have you got your pinchers hot ?
So, where then will ye go begin ?
My tongue is cold, 'twill answer not,
Fix on the tendons — peel the skin ;
Fix on, and bum, my eyes out tum.
Your worst of torments I do spurn.
Now you begin, take time, take time.
And do not let me go too soon ;
Keep me down from the cloudy clime.
For soon I'll fly bevond the moon :
Then back again, tho you were fain,
I will not come to bear again.
394 QUI QUI
The other leg and arm then take,
For these you bum I do not feel :
Come, bite me like a rattle-snake.
And prick my heart with burning steel.
Now, now I go, yes, bravely so,
And back I shall not come — no, no !
I may give one of his many strange songs, by way of
concluding —
My dearest Marget, I hae been
A tod to thee, a sad deceiver ;
And this, my Marget, ye hae seen.
Yet thou art kind to me as ever.
I drank and courted ither queens.
My fortune swell'd down pleasure's river.
Yet, tho' I squandered sae my means,
ITiou ay wer't kind to me as ever.
Thou never said'st, O ! Willie, lad.
Thou art an unco* gypsy shaver ;
liut, ay wi' me wad seem fu' glad.
And ay wer't kind to me as ever.
As kind's that day when by the bum
We sat and saw the sun-beams quiver.
And up the glen did take a turn ;
Thou'rt ay as kind to me as ever.
Xow, we hae met, nor will we part,
O ! Marget, we will never, never ;
Our hearts now counteth ae warm heart,
That wi' true love will beat for ever.
QuiRKLUMS — Little arithmetic puzzles, where the matter
hinges on a quirk. The peasantry are madly fond to have
their great minds always employed, either at one thing or
another; so they propose quirklumSy as they do rtddlums,
and set one another a thinking upon them. Quirk/urns
make them lay at the thinkings perhaps, as much as any
thing; and those of a mathematic turn, like my friends
Geordy Wishart and yeatnie Catg, are the best at solving
them. These quirkhims are generally told in rhjTue, and
many of them are not unamusing. For fun, I may give one
or two of them —
" Three cats in a wunnock sat,
** And every cat had aside her twa ;
" How mony cats, now, to a cat,
** On that wunnock sole sat and nyurd awa ? *'
Answer — three.
QUI QUI 395
** There are four weights, which can be found,
** Which ought will weigh from one to forty pound ;
** What these weights are, to me declare,
** And I shall say thou art a genius rare ? "
Answer — i, 3, 9, 27.
Being a wonderful Oriental scholar^ and quite up to the
idioms of all the languages spoken in Asia, from Kamschatca
to the Straits of Bablemandel ; as also quite a proficient
in the slang spoken at the courts of the Grand Turk and
Great Mo^ul^ quite as much so as of that spoken in a
London Badger Den^ by coveSy corkSy and other **un-
hang'd blackguards." I met with the other day, while
reading the works of Hallagree^ the famed Persian poet,
the Walter Scott of the East, an arithmetical guirkle,
so set about the translation instantly, for the benefit of
the curious; but thojugh Van Bluffberg^ the celebrated
Dutch linguist, was at my elbow, we found it no easy
matter to hold strictly by the original. Thus, however, we
made it —
Had our first Parents, when in Eden,
Not tasted of that fruit forbidden ;
Death likely, they would ne'er have met,
But would been living happy yet :
Suppose this to have been the case.
Alive yet all the human race.
And that each year (if not too wild.
Eve unto Adam bore a child.
Alternately a son and daughter,
Come, Fancy, be not beat with laughter),
And that those children did again
Sweet beings free from grief and pain.
Remorse, so grim, and fractious rage.
When they were twenty years of age
Breti, like their parents, happy creatures,
Love smiling fine through all their features,
TheMi bred again, contented souls
And filled the earth between the Poles ;
Sae ye, my friends, who are expert
At calculation's mystic art,
That art which has the darling tongue
For telling what is right from wrong,
I low many of us, to a man,
Woukl here been now, and such the plan,
I know there are can say in learned hhpahan '!
396 QUI RAE
The answer to this, for the present, I keep to my-
self.
The unassuming do the job.
The assuming take the praise.
By what they do from merit rob.
Themselves to £ame they raise.
Hint by my sell.
R.
Racket — A disorder in an assembly of person^ " A
rcuket rase, and wha to get out soonest." The sooner out
of a smoky house the better. "I heard an unco r€uket ;^
" I heard the sound of a raw" Some are good at raising
a racket amongst social friends ; such (as the great preacher
saith) should be ^'kicked over the walls of creation into
infinite space."
Raelings — Ravelings. '' Boys rael out auld hoshens to make
hand baws."
Raem — Cream. Raeming caupy a wooden milk-skimmer;
raem-jug, a cream-mug. Some girls in the country, in
order to keep youth in the face as long as possible, have a
mixture of sour cream and the sap of boghcan^ or trefoil,
made up in a mug, to wash their faces with, in dark times
convenient This raem-jug they keep in the most secret
nuik of the house, on the back skelf of some auld aumry,
for they consider, were it found, they would be blown for
ever, and never get a man ; but, as the poet finely sa}^
Darwin, I think —
In vain, poor nymph, to please our youthful sight.
You sleep in cream and frontlets all the night ;
Perfume with roses, and with paint repair.
Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair.
If truth, in spite of manners, must be told,
\Vhy, really, fifty-five is something old.
RAE RAE 397
And Matthetv Prior too, the son of Adam and oi Eve,
on this subject poetizes beautifully —
How old may Phillis be, you ask
Whose beauty thus all hearts engages ;
To answer is no easy task.
For she has really two ages.
Stiff in brocade, and pinched in stays.
Her patches, paint, and Jewels on ;
All day let envy view her face,
And Phillis is but twenty^one.
Paint, patches, jewels laid aside.
At night astronomers agree.
The evening has the day belied.
And Phillis is some forty'three.
Raens — Ravens. Raeti-nest-heuch^ the steepest precipice gen-
erally among precipices. Then the carrgatCy the way or road
on steep rocks, Ravens, like eagles, build not only on
cliffs, but on the crag of the cliff as the book of Job hath it.
Here may follow an oddity, struck off many a year ago.
Elegy on the Death ^ apuir Pet Corbie — He wandered
from home one day away by the Ncthcrlaw^ and having fallen
in with the coat of mine auld crusty herd, Davie Maben^ he
turned inside out the pockets of the same ; and while in the
act of making off with DaiuvicPs Spietic/taUy he was set upon by
the herd's collie-dog^ and the attack being followed by the
herd himself with a stick, they succeeded in ending the life
of my pet corbie —
Ha ! low puir fallow now ye be
Wi' striffan white drawn ower thy e'e.
Food for the nuiwk and mawking flee,
Death can out-trick ye ;
Auld Dawvid cnd'd thee o' thy glee
Wi's dog and clicky.
What notion gard ye croak awa
Sae far's the rosseny Netherlaw ;
I'm sure your errand there was sma*
We maun ye blame ;
Thou'st been, I doubt, like monv a wha,
Owre het ahame.
39S RAE RAE
My glossy chiel, I'm wae to think
Thou now can'st only rot and stink.
For wecl I lo'ed to see thee jink
And hap about me ;
O ! tho* ye were an unco slink,
Tm sad without ye.
Whan I was e*er through passion, folly.
Borne down wi' wretched melancholy.
He'd catch the whusking tail o' collie.
And queerly swung ;
Sae than I soon was laughing jolly,
And blytUy sung.
Whanere I gaed to count the sheep
Amang the hills and hags sae steep,
A swooming then he gaed to peep
About the farm ;
And or I kend adown wad sweep
Upon my arm.
There wad he sit, and cok fu' snug.
There rike his neb up to my lug,
And talk awa his urum if^.
To me unknown ;
Then, maybe, gi'en my hair a tug.
Syne aff wad flowii.
In wimter or a storm o* snaw,
Or rain down on the yird wad fa*
Afore the wun began to blaw.
Or tempest blatter,
Upon the hill he it wad jaw
Wi potent clatter.
And whan it just was gaen to flog
Our naked land, and houses shog.
How angry did he hotch and stog,
And croak about.
Owretuming stanes, and riving fog
Wi' his strong snout.
Yea, at the warst, whan it bid dash.
And pinging brutes without did lash,
While meikle trees fell wi' a crash,
Mine hardy cheel
To seek a shelter ne'er wad fash,
He scorn'd a beel.
Wi' some wild spirit o' the blast
He seem'd to janner thick and fast.
Yet shrinked not, nor stood aghast
Wi' tottering spawls ;
But, like a chieftain, to the last
Withstood its brawls.
RAE RAE 399
In every clime the Ra'en is seen,
On every shore where man hath been,
On moimtains, be they white or green,
Ice, or black-rock,
There he can find a hame, I ween,
And cheerfu' croak.
Tho* Arctic wanderers do crack
Whan they frae Baffin's Bay come back.
That there he doffs his doolfu' black
For robes o' white ;
To look mair like that dismal track,
He fills his kyte.
Nae doubts the Pole he aft hath seen.
Through Beerhing's Straits hath aften been.
And flung our navigators clean
To leeward, o ;
Ay, da^^Tier'd too, wi' liedoween
To Tombuctoo.
The eaglets ca'd the burd o' Jove
Because he hie in lift doth rove ;
The dove, dear Cupid's, for its love
And happy cooing,
'Mang sillar-firs, in sunny grove,
Sae sweetly wooing.
But the corbie, and 'tis odd,
Belanged to nae Heathen god,
I'hc de'il a ane gaed him a nod
While passing by ;
As he sat on his blighted sod,
Or peak sae high.
Altho' a burd as Iwnny's ony,
Wi' pranks baith tragical and funny.
Belike my grave and merry cronnie,
Alas ! no more ;
Wha tummling-flew, whan it was sunny,
Roun' heugh and shore,
Indeed o' a' the burds that lide,
TTie air, or ocean's jabbling tide.
There's nane seems to enjoy the ride
On wings like he,
But only mark wi' what a pride
He whiles will flee.
TTie dark brown tap o' some big hill
He centers, then around will sweill.
And after he has ta'en his fill
O' this high pleasure,
Away he scents, wi* mighty skill.
Some cabroch treasure.
400 RAE RAE
And when he fins a sheep &'en aval,
Her trolly-bags he can unravel ;
The corby-cravrs and him will cava!.
Ay, worry owre her ;
The e'en out o* her head theyil naval,
And sae devour her.
But ah ! my pet will never more
Flee curving roun* the hill or shore,
Nor see again his weel stufTd store,
Whar mony a button
And spleuchan lies, wi' joints galore
O' beef and mutton.
His horde frae me gat mony a knife,
For a' I never hurt his life ;
O* robberies his days >**ar rife,
Yet what the matter
I ne'er at him did boil wi' strife,
Clod'-stanes and batter.
Though 1 ha'e seen my mither whiles
Pay strict attention to his wiles.
About the bam, the stacks, and styles,
Wi' chicken burdies.
And treating him wi' nae sweet smiles,
Nor bonny wordies.
I saw his nature joy'd doing ill.
His glory was to rive and kill ;
Pu' puddings out, and warm blude spill.
Completely savage ;
O ! but he joined wi' right gude will,
A wild culravage.
At ev'ry stack we meand to house.
There with the currs he happed crouse ;
And whan outspouted e'er a mouse
Frae 'mang the grain.
Despite o' tykes or fuffing puss,
That was his ain.
He made its tender ribs play crack,
His homy lips round it wad smack;
Sae gullied her a dainty chack
Without a glutt ;
Then glowr'd and glented round the stack
For mair tae gutt.
Whan boys rave out the sparrow's nest,
Wi' young goits therein gorling dressed.
He soon did set their tongues at rest.
The chirping choked ;
Then leas'd them in his stamack chest.
And never boked.
RAE RAE 401
The beggar bairns wi' naked feet
He aften caused to sab and greet.
Whan him and them wad chance to meet ;
He gard them squeel ;
Wi' him it was a noble treat
To nip the heel.
How mony chuckies brawly tappit
He tum'd a comer on and snappit ;
What yal!ow gaizlings, heads he crappit
About the dub ;
And even auld ducks he roughly graipet,
The pawkie scrub.
But yet, altho' the hellish knave
Did thus sae aften ill behave.
When a* condemned him, I wad save
Wi' great ado.
Strong oratory I had to brave
To bring him through.
Like Barrington, and Captain Blood,
My noble culprit bravely stood
Owre high in crime for gallows food
The famous loon ;
Wi' me he had a life fu* good.
For mony a moon.
O, bards may sing, and priests may pray,
True de*ils will wi' their daddv stay ;
Frae hell they scorn to steer tneir way.
Wi' vice they anchor,
And prie the smirking lady gay
And faeming tankor.
Upon the braid claise-drying thorn.
What sarks war by the Corby torn.
How aft the lasses on a mom
Wi' him had scuffles ;
And oh, how some o'em wad hae sworn
About their ruffles.
** My cambric mutch I mean'd to crimp,
** That was trimm'd bonnily wi* gimp :
** My spencer, too, whilk made me jimp,"
(I^ud ane o'em soun^)
•* Is by that curse which there doth limp
** Tom a' in roens.
** And here's my tippet," Meg wad rair,
** Wi' whilk I mean d to gang tae fair,
** Just like your braws, a' here and there,
•*In swatches scalter'd ;
•* See to them lying every where,
••Ari'enandtatter'd."
2 C
403 RAE RAE
My &ther maistly did incline
To join his voice for him wi' mine ;
'* Some things," he said, *' there were divine,
" And high about him ;
" Ye, tho' he whiles on lammies dine,
" I will not shoot him.'*
" They war his ancestors, wha took
" Food to Eliiah by the brook,
" As mention d in the holy book ;
*• By orders gi'en,
*' For whilk the prophet blvthe did look,
*' Baith mom and e'en.
»•
'* And Noah, too, whan in the ark,
** That unco meikle floating hark,
" Sent out a corby, to remark
'* Dry land again ;
*' Wha glowr'd lai^ for a tree or park;
"Or he faun anc."
*' Sae agents o' Heaven's mighty king,
'* We maunna by the thrappTe swing,
** Nor lift a stane, and gie t a fling
** At them wi* might,
" For fear we may oursells gae sling
"To hell's grim knighL'
*' Its lang since Scotchmen heard the note
" Or proverb, ne'er to be foigot,
** That corbies are a JHt//e sAof,
** Like clergymen ;
'* Misfortune gets that meddling sot
"Whadisnaken."
But pooh ! — What flummery's this I blaw,
About the auld daez'd corby craw ?
It is na like mysell ava,
A mighty poet !
To fyke wi' sic a theme sae sma'.
Right owrboard throw it.
A mighty poet ! hear him, hear him,
A mighty blockhead. Heaven be near him,
Some critic worricow, come fear him ;
And whan he flinches,
Damnation, like the Ra'en, gae tae tear him
Ay, a' in inches.
O, wee, wee man, mind trivial things.
The silly bardy silly sings,
He'll vaunt about his fancy's wings.
And how they flutter ;
But when on them he upward springs.
He lights I'e gutter.
RAE RAN 403
The welkin's high aboon our head,
And higher far souls o' the dead ;
What is this earth, we're doomed to tread ?
And what are we ?
Bewilder*d cormorants indeed,
In a wild sea.
Our deepest thoughts are shallows slim,
The brightest eye is woefii' dim ;
Our logic sound — perhaps a whim —
For who can tell
When that we dive we only swim
Like corkwud speall ?
Then let the sage gae brownly think.
And courtiers at crimes gae wink ;
Let rustic bards sing on and drink
'Bout Joan and Derby,
rU lean me owre,^ and mourn a blink
About my Corbie.
Raffing Fallows — Ranting, roaring, drinking fellows.
Ragabash — A ragged crew of unmannerly people.
Ragging — Com is said to be a m^>/^when it is a putting the
first time through the fanSy or winnowing machine. When
this is done it is raggedy cleaned of its rags and roughness ;
also com is said to be beginning to ragg\i\itxi the grain-head
first appears out of the shotblade; com first raggs which grows
on the sides of riggs^ by the furbraWy and if none ragged be
seen before Kelton-hill Fair, it is a symptom there is going to
be a late harrest that year.
Rairding — Ice is said to be rairdingy when it is cracking from
some cause ; in the time of a very hard frost, lochs are heard
to rair of their own accord.
Rais'd — An animal looks raised when its temper is up. To
raise any one, is to stir or rouse the passions.
Ram-horn Spoons — Large spoons, made of the homs of rams.
Ramp — ^A creature is ramp that is rompish inclined ; a ramp
smelly a strong smell, the smell of a he-goat RampSy wild
leeks, common on shores.
Rannle-tree — A bar of wood or iron fixed in chimnies, to fvn
the crook to, for the piupose oi suspending pots over the fire :
404 RAN RAU
amongst the many amusements of the ingle ring^ one is, idio
shall say a certain saying quickest, without going wrong. In
one of these, mention is made of the rannle-trre. " The cat
ran up the ran file-tree wi' a lump o' raw red liver in its teeth."
For fun, I may give more of these sayings. The peasant's
cottage is indeed a den of curiosity. " Briskly reeks Rab
I^ogan's lum," and retrograde again. "Rab Logan's lum
reeks briskly ; " another, " I can count the cuts and the cuts
count me ; " then to the sia^ and the thisselSy and who shall
say criffles clear oftenest, without drawing breath.
Rap and Stow — A phrase meaning root and branch.
Rashes — Rushes ; " as straught's a rash " — straight as a rush.
Straight people are likened to a rush commonly. Raskbuss,
a bush of rushes ; rash-whups, rash-bonnetSy rash-pyddies^ are
whips, caps, and fish-wears, made of rushes : rash also means
a fall of rain, attended with wind; "hear to the rain rashing,"
hear to it dashing. " The spuings came rashing frae him,"
means, he vomited freely.
Ratton — A rat. Ratton-fa\ a rat trap; ratton-fliiting, a
flitting of rats. Sometimes these animals, for causes known
to themselves, leave one haunt where they have fed well
a long time, and go to another. Many have met them
thus removing, and leading the old blind ones with a straw,
which passed between mouths like a kissing-string. What
instinct is this ? Those Percy Anecdote folks should have
heard of the matter. People do not like the rats to dis-
appear thus on a sudden, as the thing is thought to portend
nothing good, and sailors will leave their ships if they observe
the rats quit them.
Rattrum — A confused mass of words, the language of a
rattle-scull, as it flows from them the words " in dizzens and
raws."
Raucked — Marked as with a nail. JRaucking, the noise a
nail makes writing on a slate ; it touches the nerves. " A
RAU REE 405
cat raucktng on a beden," was one of three things mine
obstinate Laird Coutart could not endure; the other two
were, a ^^ priest preaching wV specks ofiy" and a ** wee Boat
drawing a big ane^
Raullion, or Rullion — A rough ill-made animal.
Raultree, or Raeltree — A long piece of strong wood^ which
is placed across byres^ to put the ends of cow-stakes in.. The
one the foot of the stake jests in, is the realtreefit, the other
the realtree hecul.
Rawly — Not ripe. Rawly chcel, a young lad.
Raw-weather — Cold wet weather; this is much disliked by
rural hinds.
There's mony a thing we dinna like,
But we maun wi' them just put up ;
For, wha the de'il cares what we like,
Or how we feel, or how we sup ?
We dinna like the weather raw,
The dawding win\ the blashing rain,
Nor sleety showers frae the nor-wast,
And o' the snaw we are na lain.
Weel aff are they aneath the mools,
They never fin' the caul ava,
But in their lanely narrow beds
Do snugly doze and rot awa.
The frost may bite, the hail may nip,
llie rain may steep us to the skin.
But thae aneath the auld green truflfs
The waes o' weather never. fin*.
" Raw-dawds make strong lads^ as the saying is ; that is,
•pieces^ viz. whangs o' bread and cheese ; or a piea spread wi'
the gude-wife's thumbs of the kirnbannock, tastes ay weel in
the gabs o* stirrahs," quoth Meg Murdoch.
Redearly — Grain that has got a heat on sometime or other,
either when the " stack took a wee lue," or in the mushoch.
Ree — A round sheep-fold, where sheep are put into on
snowy nights, to hinder the snow to ree^ or wreath them up ;
4o6 REE RIC
as the wind, by whirling round this circle, lets the snow
not wreath in it. Ree^ is often confounded with ht^U
but a sheep-ree and a sheep-bughi^ are different ; a bugki is a
little bight to catch sheep in, no matter what be its figure.
To ree grain, is to whirl it through a riddle, so that the
tares in it may be seen ; this ree then, and the other ree^ are
one ; we say rees d snaWy for wreaths of snow, and whiles
wrides ; let this word ree then, be properly understood ; but
there is another ree^ with which it seems to claim no kindred.
When a man is rammagedy that is, raised^ cras^d^ or damaged
with drinky we say that man looks ree; he looks mad and
flushed. A poet too, in a wild phrenzy, with fancy flashing
from earth to heaven, and from thence to hell, looketh
ree. Poets are generally drawn this way, by artists. In
truth, Byron always looks in a print shop as if he saw
the devil ; why, ye draughtsmen, make all the sons of genius
look like fools ? it is nonsense.
For Bob, I will invert your role,
And so by proving plainly show it.
That if a poet be a fool.
Sure every fool is not a poet
Prior,
Reepan — A low-made wretch, a talepyet
Reestie — A horse is reestie when it stands fast, and will not
move for the whip, but is rather inclined to go backwards ;
restedy to be arrested.
Reezie — A horse is reezie when he is inclined to whisk his tail,
so that the hair thereof, in swiftly going through the air,
causeth a whistling sound, and plunge, so that a bad
horseman like myself, sits in jeopardy.
Rheumatiz — Rheumatics.
RiCKETV-DicKETY — A toy made of wood, for children.
Rickle — A piece of bad building ; a cairn of stones. A rkkle
d banety a skeleton, a lean man ; a bad stone builder is
called a rickler.
RID RID 407
RiDDLUMS — Riddles, sometimes called guesses ; some of
the riddles of the peasantry are worth a laugh, so I will
not pass them over ; they have a peculiar nature of their
own, and a rural riddle is at once known from one of foreign
manufacture. Riddkims and quirklums are in some instances
like other. As a farmer asked another '' how many shearers
he had in his banwun f " the other answered, " I hae one
hundred and twenty bansmen, sae ye may guess frae that ; ''
well, as a bandsman generally binds to five shearers, the in-
quirer began his calculation by multiplying the 120 by 5 ;
when he had done, " Bless me, (quoth he) hae ytsaxhunner
shearers?" — "Na, na, (said the other) ye hae counted
yourself out of it ; I have just what I said, one hundred
shearers^ and twenty bandsmen : but because I didna make a
wee stop, after saying the hunner, ye took me up wrang."
This one is just like that ball, with the three-score-and-three
fiddlers at it, each fiddler having twenty dancers, how many
dancers were there ? —
" Bonny Kitty Brawnie she stands at the wa',
" Gie her meikle, gie her little, she licks up a',
*' Gie her stanes, she'll no eat them, and water she'll dee.
" Come tell me that bonny riddlum to me."
This is a favourite Scotch riddle, meaning the jSr^.
As I cam owre Lonon Brig,
I met wi* Geordy Caning^
I took aflf his head and drank his bluid,
And left his body staning.
A bottle ofalf.
Come tell me wha was that sannie,
Wha was got afore his father,
Wha was bom afore his mither,
And wha took the maidenhead o' his granny.
Answer — Abel ; for his father was not begot y nor his mother
born ; his grandmother was the earth, he was the first who
was bedded in it; as Eve was his mother, a piece of frail
earth also.
4o8 RID RID
*' As I stood on yon castle wa'
*' I saw the dead carrying the quick awa."
Answer a iaat.
** What ^ngs through the wood what it can flee,
** And never touclies a single tree ? "
Answer — a cry.
The expression in this riddle, of going what it can fly,
belongs purely to Galloway. " If I gang tae 'town the day
ril ride*' is a phrase often flung in the teeth of the natives,
by those of other districts, as extremely vulgar^ but it is not
so ; for you may go, which is ganging any way you will ; you
may either riding go, flying go^ swimming go, the giammar is
good : when " heard ye any news ?" is asked, the answer
is frequently — " No, I heard na as meikle as ae auld wife
dinging owre anither;" and when to alarm a party. With saymg
to them " did ye hear yon awfu' news the day ? " when n^ is
replied, with much trepidation ; the answer is made, " why I
heard to-day that a man had ta'en the levelling o' Ceumhattii,
and that twaul mile square o' the sea has been brunt ayont
the Isle o' Man." But where do I ramble ? Was I to note
down all the sports I have heard in my native country, a
book as large as Noah's Ark would hardly hold them ; of
riddiums then, I take my leave, by proposing a popular one,
which may be answered as thought best : —
" What is it, that is skinless bom,
** And whilk doth wingless fly,
** To death a rairing it doth go,
** Perfuming earth and sky ! "
Riding for the Broes — This scene has been some-
what touched by other rustic writers, so I briefly say,
" That it is a ride on horseback by the wadding fmok at-
tending a bridegroom to the brid's house ; he who has
the swiftest horse wins the broes^ or a cog of good broth
made for the occasion." It may well be fancied then, that
this is a horse race, worth all those, for good fun, that
ever were run at Newmarket A gourmand Moor-farmer
once gained the broes, so long before his rivals came, that
RID RIN 409
he had the whole cog-full lapped into his kyte ; when they
came up, he was just at the heels o't, after which he. gave it to
his collie to lick the lagging.
Riding the Beetle — Those who are on foot, or shanks
naigie, with a party on horseback, are said to be riding the
beetle.
** War ye at the fair, saw ye mony people,
** Saw ye our gude man riding on the beetle I "
Auld sang.
Riding the Stang — A public punishment, inflicted on adulter-
ers and fornicators. A large pole is got, and passed between
the culprit's legs ; he is then carried and cudgelled through
clauchansy to the laugh and scorn of the mob. If the guilty
man is married, and hath been leaving his wife and debauch-
ing young girls, he is then carried by men, the ends of the
pole are manned with males; but if he hath been caught
with another man's wife, females bear him forth; if he be un-
married, and hath been toying with men's wives, yoimg men
carry him, and so forth ; it is a very severe punishment, but
perhaps not so bad as the crime.
Rig-adown Daisy — At weddings, anciently the waddin faivk
danced a great deal on the grass, before they went into
barns ; this fun was termed rig-adown daisy,
RiGG and Furr — Land is said to be divided into rig and fur^
when parcelled into ridges, by furrows ; some kinds of hose
are called rig and furr,
RiGLiNG — A ram with one stone in the scrotum, the other is
about the parts of the back, and sometimes not at all ; this
is an animal between the tip and dumchaser,
Rhyne — Hoar frost
Ringing Black Frost — A very severe frost when the
ground keeps blacky and seems to ring when struck ; this
is the season for c/tannling or playing at the channlestone ;
few stars stud the lift at this season ; the moon has a
4IO RIN ROB
brass &ce on, and a dark-brown haze hangs round the
horizon.
RiNNER — A little brook; also, butter melted with tar, for
sheep-smearing,
RiNNiNGS — Ulcers, which are the fountains of running matter.
RiNS o' Gallowa — ^The borders, roons^ or selvages of Gallo-
way. The rilings or ravelings, or rugged margins of the
country.
RippET — ^A bitter-tempered, chattering creature.
RippLEGiRSE — A broad-leaved herb, which labourers put on
cuts.
RiSRiSH Lan' — Land of a wet and boggy nature ; the plough
rairs and risks in it when ploughing.
RizzLES — A species of berry; sometimes they are called
russles.
RizzLiNG — Any thing such as straw, is said to be rizzling^ when
it is free of moisture, quite dry, rustling.
Robbin-a-Ree — A game of the ingle-nuik^ much like the preest-
cat; only in passing the brunt-stick round the ring, the
following rhyme is said : —
•* Robin-a*Ree, ye'll no dee wi* me,
** Tho* I birl ye roun' a three-times and three,
•*0 Robin-a-Ree, O Robin-a-Ree,
** O dinna let Robin-a-Reerie dee."
I have been somewhat pestered to know who or what this
Rohin-a-Ree was. The old song here brings him before us in
another shape.
I dinna like the Meg o* mony feet,
Nor the braumet Connochworm,
Quoth Mary Lee, as she sat and did greet,
A dawding wi' the storm ;
Nowther like I the vallow-wym'd-ask,
'Neath the root o yon aik tree.
Nor the hairy adders on the fog that bask,
But waur I like Robin-a-Ree.
ROB ROB 411
O ! hatefd' it's to hear the whnt-thioat chark,
Frae out the aald TafTdyke,
And wha likes the e'ening singing lark.
And the anld moon boughi^ tyke ;
O ! I hate them, and the ghaist ateen,
Ne*er the den o* pair Mary Lee,
But ten times waur loe I, I ween.
That vile cheel Robin-a-Ree.
O ! sourer than the green bullister.
Is a kiss o' Robin-a*Ree,
And the milk on the tade*s back I wad prefer,
To the poison on his lips that be ;
He has rum'd me the de*ils needle.
He has killed puir Mary Lee,
Whan my heart awa, he did weedle,
Nae mair saw I Robin-a-Ree.
'Ere that my lum did bonnily reek,
Fu' bien and clean was my ha'.
At my ain ingle than my spawls I cud beck.
Whan that swaul'd the wridy snaw ;
O ! ance I liv'd happy by von bonny bum.
The warl was in love wi me.
But now I maun sit 'neath the could drift and mourn,
And curse black Robin-a-Ree.
Then whudder awa thou bitter biting blast.
And sough through the scruntie tree.
And smoor me up i the snaw fu' fastf
And ne'er let the sun me see ;
O ! never melt awa thou wride o' snaw,
That's sae kind in graving me.
But hide me ay frae the scorn and ga&w,
O' villains like Robin-a-Ree.
There are two other Robbuis, celebrated in an out-of-the-
way kind of song, which I feel inclined also to give —
Twa lads at ClauchmdoUy bide,
Wha I lo'e weel, they're baith sae spree,
I'd be the tane or t'ither's bride,
I>ear Robbin Bell—^yittX RoMnn Bee,
But what's the odds wha I do like.
There's nane o'm cares a doit ibr me.
Which makes me lie, and sab, and byke.
For Robbin Bell and RMin Bee,
The tane o'm shaws his buckskin breeks.
And cordivans sae nice to see ;
Tlie tither has the dress bespeaks.
Trig Robbin Bell—Wghi Robbin Bee,
And nane o' them can ither beat.
At putting-stane, and doure sweartree.
Then to the kirk they baith come neat,
Braw Robbin BeU-AiXV&V Robbin Bee.
4IO RIN ROB
brass &ce on, and a dark-brown haze hangs round the
horizon.
RiNNER — A little brook; also, butter melted with tar, for
s?uep-smearing.
RiNNiNGS — Ulcers, which are the fountains of running matter.
RiNS o* Gallowa — ^The borders, roons^ or selvages of Gallo-
way. The riUngs or ravelings, or rugged margins of the
country.
RippET — ^A bitter-tempered, chattering creature.
RippLEGiRSE — A broad-leaved herb, which labourers put on
cuts.
RiSKisH Lan' — Land of a wet and boggy nature ; the plough
rairs and risks in it when ploughing.
RizzLES — A species of berry; sometimes they are called
tussles,
RizzLiNG — Any thing such as straw, is said to be riszling^ when
it is free of moisture, quite dry, rustling.
Robbin-a-Ree — A game of the ingle-nuik^ much like the pnnt-
cat; only in passing the brunt-stick round the ring, the
following rhyme is said : —
•* Robin-a-Ree, ye*ll no dee wi' me,
** Tho' I birl ye roun' a three-times and three,
**0 Robin-a-Ree, O Robin-a-Ree,
** O dinna let Robin-a-Reerie dee."
I have been somewhat pestered to know who or what this
Robin-a-Rce was. The old song here brings him before us in
another shape.
I dinna like the Meg o* mony feet,
Nor the brawnet Connochworm,
Quoth Mary Lee, as she sat and did greet,
A dawding wi* the storm ;
Nowther like I the vallow-\%'ym*d-ask,
'Neath the root o yon aik tree.
Nor the hairy adders on the fog that bask,
])ut waur I like Robin-a-Ree.
ROB — ROB 411
O ! hatefii* it's to hear the whut-throat chark,
Frae out the auld Taflfdyke,
And wha likes the evening singing hirk,
And the auld moon houghing tyke ;
O ! I hate them, and the ghaist ateen,
Ne'er the den o* puir Mary Lee,
But ten times waur loe I, I ween,
That vile cheel Robin-a-Ree.
0 ! sourer than the green bullister,
Is a kiss o' Robin-a-Ree,
And the milk on the tade's back I wad prefer,
To the poison on his lips that be ;
1 le has rum'd me the de'ils needle,
He has kill'd puir Mary Lee,
Whan my heart awa, he did weedle,
Nae mair saw I Robin-a-Ree.
'Ere that my lum did bonnily reek,
Fu' bien and clean was my ha',
At my ain ingle than my spawls I cud beck.
Whan that swaul'd the wridy snaw ;
O ! ance I liv'd happy by yon bonny bum,
The warl was in love wi me,
But now I maun sit 'neath the cauld drift and mourn,
And curse black Robin-a-Ree.
Then whudder awa thou bitter biting blast.
And sough throi^h the scruntie tree.
And smoor me up i the snaw fu' Uistf
And ne'er let the sun me see ;
O ! never melt awa thou wride o' snaw,
That's sae kind in graving me.
But hkie me ay firae the scorn and gafaw,
O' villains like Robin-a-Ree.
There are two other Robbifis^ celebrated in an out-of-the-
way kind of song, which I feel inclined also to give —
Twa lads at ClauchendoUy bide,
Wha I lo'e weel, they're baith sae spree,
I'd be the tane or t'ither's bride,
Dear Robbin Bell—^vrtet Robhin Bee.
But what's the odds wha I do like.
There's nane o'm cares a doit ibr me,
Which makes me lie, and sab, and byke.
For Robbin Bell and Rabbin Bee,
The tane o'm shaws his buckskin breeks.
And cordivans sae nice to see ;
llie tither has the dress bespeaks.
Trig Robbin Bell— tight Robbin Bee.
And nane o' them can ither beat.
At putting-stane, and doure sweartree,
I'hen to the kirk they baith come neat,
Braw Robbin Bell— hmV Robbin Bee,
412 ROB ROB
O, but they faaith are funny cheels,
I never saw them wanting ^ec.
And wi' the lassies, too, theyre de'ils,
Mark /(oMh .A^/— match I^aMin Bte,
The tane has bastard baimies twa.
The tither he has twa or three.
But O, they're darling boys for a'.
My Rohbin BeU-<Jid RoMm Bee.
At sock or scythe they hae nae match.
They ay do get the biggest fee,
And t»ith o* them do wear a watch,
O, Rabbin Belfs-Aike Bobbin Bee.
'Bout them rin mony a hizzie daft.
Ay waur than me, puir Girzle Gee,
For O, their tongues make hearties saft,
Blythe Bobbin Be/i—hmye Bobbin Bee.
O, wha can stand their squeezes warm ?
And whan they cadge us on the knee.
We clean forget there's ony harm
In Bobbin Bell — ^and BMin Bee,
RoBBiN Breestie — The Robin Redbreast ; in Germany,
Tommy Linden. The following poem, termed the Twa
Burdiesj I give, for why, it hath very little poetic merit, but
treats of the Robbin Breastie, and the Willie Wagtail, and
has a tolerable moral : —
Whan a wunter storm was ance taking its breath.
And the snaw did cease to drift,
And the sun peeped through a straight blue lx>re,
Laigh, laigh, i' the southeron lift.
Twa burdies 'neath the easle o' an auld house,
Sat chirping out their wail,
The tane o* them was the Robbin Breestie,
And the tither the Wullie Wagtail.
Puir Robbin's wings war hinging unco side.
And his shankies seem'd truly sma'.
While WuUie's tail wi' its white and blae feathers,
Cud hardly gie a wag ava.
The twasome pied down on the cauld sneep snaw,
Wi' the sorry hauf striflfen'd e'e,
A wee teat o' gool was no to be seen.
Nor ane spawl'drochy lang- legged flee.
ROB ROO 415
Then follow me, quoth the Robbin Breestie,
To his comrade the Wullie Wagtail,
Let us bauldly enter yon bielie giu-ha',
And for food we winna faiL
Sae inta the bonny ha' they did hap.
And the baimies them daigh did mool,
Wee Mary ran out to the wunnowing the com,
And brought them in plenty o* gool.
Then on to the lip o* the meal-gimel,
Lap Robbin and sang his sang ;
But Wullie the lad look wullyart and blate,
And was wagging his tail bx* thrang.
Ane bawdrons wha had kitlins under a bed,
Whan she heard Robbin's sang.
Came sprauchlin in a hurry out,
And at Wullie Wagtail did spang.
He flew against a lozen wi* a thud,
Glass light deceived the chiel,
Back fluttering he was dung, and cudna be saved,'
To bawdrons he did reel.
She nyarr'd whan she gat him, as he had been a mouse.
Or some lang-snout^ cheeping strow,
Robbin sat still, and keep'd a calm sough.
Than happ'd out whan he was fu'.
A lesson is this to a' mankind.
Whan we*re strangers ony gate never fail
To mark them that's nanf, like the Robbin Breestie,
Or weVe worried like the IVullie Wagtail.
RoBBiN-RiN-THE-HEDGE — A trailing kind of weed, which
runs along hedges, a robbin net ; its seed sticks to woollen
cloth.
RoNNET Bags — ^The rennets for coagulating milk.
Roon-Shoon — Shoes made of the roons, or selvages of cloth.
RoosiNG — Praising, with a little flattery. The Gallovidians
are not much given to this fault; when the merchant
asked auid Ned about the caut he intended to sell, what
were her properties, and so forth, Ned, who knew nothing
about roosing, or lying, said, " Why the cow has very little
miikj and no butter at all ; " Ned, indeed, did not butter
up his property. Another man said of his friend's whisky,
" that it was de'ils swear to gang down, nor wad it stay whan
it was downy And a third, whom a neighbour was buying
414 ROO ROY
seed com from, the latter said that he doubted it wad not
grow, as it was a wee thing o' the red early cast; '' that's a
queer thought of your's, (quoth the fonner) ^ for I*m sure it
was de'ils fond to grow in the harrest-time; " but grain, when
once it hath budded, and is checked, will not bud again.
Such are swatches of the flatteiy of the peasantry.
Roov'd — Rivetted. Two persons once tried who would
tell the largest lie ; the first said, '' he knew a fellow who
made a ladder, and Went up on it to the mocm, and there
drove a spike nail right through her fieice ; " ^ O, but (says the
other,) my fellow went up and raat/d that nail on the other
side." " Well," (cried a third) " I think you are about
equal ; you may try again."*
RoPED-EEN — Sore eyes; the rheumy matter hardened on the
eye-lashes.
RossENs — Bramble covers, sometimes termed ronsy dumps
of thorns and briers ; same with French rvnceroi^ a wild,
thorny place ; a king, or rot, of rustling brushwood places.
A fox was once sadly beset in one of these rvssems ^
whuns ; the hounds could not uncover him, so the nm
was set in flames about his lugs ; out he came with his tafl
a-blaze, like one of Sampson's, and was shot by one of
the sentinels.
RoucHTON — A rough, strong fellow ; rouch^ rough.
RouNALL — Any circular thing, such as the moon.
RousE-AWAV ! — A call of a fresh-water boatswain ! lund
away.
Rout — A heavy blow with a stick.
Roving-Sleep — When one talks while sleeping, we are said to
be roving in our sleep.
Rowings — Wool made up in long rolls, with cards^ before it is
spun.
RovATiNG — Feasting well ; rioting on the sweets of the earth.
RUG RUR 415
Rug — A bed-cover ; " as snu^s a bug in a n^." — Old say.
Rule o' Thumm — Rule of thumb, the king of all rules. The
ruU ofthreey and Pythagoras's golden rule are nothing to this;
it is that rule whereby a person does something which no
other can. Thus Burns wrote Tarn d Shanter by the rule d
thumm; this is the rule of genius^ or the rule of nature ^ which
surpasses all the rules of art ; every soul knows less or more
of this rule, and yet no two know exactly the same. Thus,
who could compose this book like me? — None. Many might
be found to do it better, and few worse; but none could do it
exactly as I do ; of course, then, I am making use of this
valuable rule^ and so doth every one; without book or
dominie we all become acquainted with the rule d thumm ;
we even gain the affections of the lasses by it — the only thing
worthy of gain in this world.
Rules o' Contrary — A female school game, much like
Allieomgreenzie, which see.
RuMMLEKiRNS — GuUets on wild rocky shores, scooped out
by the hand of nature ; when the tide flows into them in a
storm, they make an awful rumbling noise ; in them are the
surges churned.
RuMMLiNSiRES — Small sewers filled with little stones.
RuNCHES — White roots, common among ploughed land; swine
are fond of them, but farmers not
RUNGE — ^To rummage, to search with avidity.
RuNSE — ^The noise a sharp instrument makes, piercing flesh.
Runt — A short thick stick, a rung; also a short person,
runted tail,
RuN-wuLL — A person is said to be run-wull^ when run out of
the reach of the law ; with wildness.
RuRALACH — A native of the rural world.
Whan I came hame frae my weary travels,
My bonny lassy I thought to see.
My lovely dearie, wha aften wandered,
In sunny blinks roun' the shores wi' me.
4i6 RUR SAD
But whar was she, O whar was my sweetheart ?
But in her grave 'neath the tnm sae green.
There she dom sleep, and I bitter weep.
For my only true love, my Rural Queen.
Whatever she said, I did joy to hear her,
Howe'er she look'd, she was heaven to see.
In my arms I press'd her, and sweetly kiss*d her.
Her feeling neart quickly moved me.
What caused me then not to wed my dariing?
'Twas reason blighted my love sae keen.
For Poverty he did frighten me,
Sae I bade farewell to my Rural Queen.
1 bade farewell to the blooming creature.
Until a fairer day I'd see.
But death came fomt'ard while I delayed,
And a doolfii' wretch he has made o' me.
Thus always cowards by the world are treated.
It is the way, and has ever been ;
P'or fate grows cross, and their loves they loss.
As has been my luck wi' my Rural Queen.
s.
S— An iron hook of the shape of this letter, used by harrowers
and ploughmen to join the treadwuddie to the buck in har-
rowing, and to the soam in ploughing ; also to the sunngU-
trees in each.
Sackie — A person somewhat like a sack when full.
Saddened — Made solid, by tramping or otherwise.
Saddle-tae-side — The way females sit on the saddle, to the
one side.
Saddler Halliday — A well known Gallovidian original,
of the Christian name James, but being bred a saddler,
and becoming notorious, he is known by no other name
than Saddler Halliday ; when young he was the best-per-
son*d man any where to be seen ; when at his apprentice-
ship, dukes and lords, in passing through Dumfries,
stopped their carriages to observe the young saddler.
Having served out his time, he married his master's
daughter, but she proving not to be a very good woman,
and he none of the very best of men, they soon dissolved
SAD SAD 417
partnership. He said of her, " that had he fished the loch o*
hell wi' a tade on for a baity he could not have drawn up a
worse wife." After this, he took a ramble away through
England, as far as London, and drunk and was merry where-
ever he went, dipping at the same time deep into the know-
ledge of the ways of mankind, the most extensive science of
any. But what may seem strange, he would not walk a mile
undemight, no, not for all the world ; here then do we
behold a young strong man, nearly seven feet high, so afraid
of boggles, that he could not move alone, when gloaming set
in. He used to say, "that though very timorous he was
this way, he was not so bad as the auld priest Nathan Mackie,
who durst not gang to the door ate'en to , unless
ane of the servants gaed wi' him, and held him by the coat
tail." The boggles have quite the upper hand of the saddler ;
once the cloud involved him in darkness on some of the
roads of Galloway, so he would proceed no farther, and
bolted into a barn by the way-side, and covered himself
among some straw ; about midnight he heard something
like the moans and groans of some being in the same
bam, and his fears squared, the sounds of distress in-
creased, and at last, a vomiting noise was heard ; the smell
of the disgorged matter told in the saddler's nose, that the
being was nothing of the supernatural order; he sought it
out, and who was this but his own worthy wife, hopeful
woman? Next morning they parted again, and never, as
I have heard, have had the happiness to pass a night with
each other again. It is long now since the saddler became
a wandering tradesman ; he wanders from one friend's house
in the country to another, and "fettles the naig graith."
Bachelor's haws are his favourites; there he goes through
his tales, and makes his pointed remarks; he is ratherly
given to Scotch satire, which assists in making him the
famous character he is ; he has the manners of the best
bred gentleman at hand, whenever he needs to use them ;
2 D
4i8 SAD SAW
his abilities wont to shine with brilliancy over a bottle, and
the cock of all parties wherein was he, was always allowed to
be Saddler Halliday.
Sadjell — A lazy unwieldy animal.
Saeged-Teeth — Teeth set on edge by eating unripe fruit
Sael'd — Sealed.
Saip-sapples, or Saip-sudds — Water that clothes has been
washed with.
Sand-tripper — The sand-piper, common on shores.
Saughwand-creels — Wicker baskets.
Saving-tree — ^A shrub common in gardens, of a medical
nature ; given (the leaves of it, when decocted), to horses
having the botts ; also, it is said to kill the foetus in the womb,
though I doubt if there be much truth in this. It takes its
name from this though, as being able to save a young woman
from shamCy by her committing murder, a pretty way indeed
This is what makes gardeners and others wary about giving it
to females. Bums fancies Hombuik knew this tree. " She
trust hersell to hide the shame in Hombuke's care."
Sawing Sheet — A sheet out of which grain is sown. To
saw braid-cast, to scatter grain with the hand. Saw, sahe
for wounds.
Sawnie, the Sailor — No original is more worthy a place
in this book than Sawnie Brman, or Sawnie the Sailor-
Bom in Borgue, bred a farmer, ran off, and became a
sailor when about twenty years of age. Sailed in the
slave-trade ; was impressed on board a man o' war ; was
at the taking the Cape of Good Hope, and at Monte
Video, in South America. After serving his Majesty ten
years against his will, he returned to his native country,
and, like his ancestor, Sinbad the Sailor, recounted his
wonderful adventures, and really wonderful they are;
entirely true, as Sawnie never lied in his life. It is not
SAW SAW 419
exactly the many brunts and strange scenes he has been in
that make them so, but it is the strange observations he made
in these brunts and broilimefiis, and the way he tells them ;
for what is singular, all the while he was away from friends,
amidst foreigners in distant lands, his native tongue and
native manners changed nothing ; he came home a greater
Borgucnite than when he went away, and talked hrader Scotch
than any in the country ; to hear him in this language telling of
one of his Shirramuirs, how laughable it is. I shall give the
account of the battle of the Cape, as taken from his lips ; all
his other adventures I have also by me, and will give them
to the world some day or other, for indeed they are as
original things as I have met with. " Weel, the fleet started ;
I kend na whar the devil they war for. We had sogers
without end aboard, wi' Sir David Baird and his white naig,
and mair care was ta'en o' this white naig than o* ony human
creature we had wi' us. Our Commodore, Sir H P ,
was a damned lang yallow leug, wi' buckteeth ; he nevtigaed
lie hardly, but wad hae lain wi* his claise on twar-three
minutes whiles aboon the blankets ; he ay looked oozlie, his
hat 2l in colours, and his coat covered wi' woo and stoure ;
he feared neither God nor the Devil, and his oaths
made the auldest sailor aboard trimmle. After we had
plunged at it for twar-three weeks, we saw the loom of
the Cape, and soon landed the sogers on*t, at a place three
miles frae Cape Town, round the shore. The Dutch and
French forces war to be fought next day ; the sailors o' the
fleet war to man the big guns ; and I was ane amang the
rest picked out to push and draw the meikle cannon on the
fiel o' battie. Lord, I ken'd na now what to think, I had
never been at a battle ; a kind o* shilpetness cam owre me ;
wine was dealt roun' ; I skilled at it, but had I drank at it
till yet, it wad na hae doitered me; a noggin fu' has nae
effect in a time o' that kind. The marching began about
sunrise, and soon we came in sight o' the enemy : how
420 SAW SAW
the sun did dazzle on the sillar-laced claise o' the Frendi
troops ; I looked at them whan I had time, but the hauii-
ing the guns keeped ane thrang. Soon we gat near them,
and they began to burn powther first I hated to hear the
balls soughing by me, and thought on my Father's auld
prayer, some o' which I said quietly to myselL At length the
faught began in earnest ; gude Lord ! what a tirrivee and
stramash ! We had twa Highland regiments ; some o' the
sogers in them being shot, the rest gat mad on the instant
the moment they saw blood. Donald cudna be hadden in ;
they flew in on the fae with their bagonets, and sent the
enemy in confusion. Now was the time for us ; we pointed
the guns to the greatest cluddcrs, and they being loaded with
grape, we just cutted roads through them, and fain war they
to lay down their arms at our feet in a wee time, and ask for
quarters ; but the devils o* Highland bodies seemed anxioos
for mair o\ and seemed vexed the dust was owre ; mony a
ane they necked after the battle was at an end. Then
marched we into Cape Town, and stack up the flag. I was
as black as the Ace o* Spades wi* gunpowther ; but whan
washed and dressed, faith I was as weel as ever ; the de'il the
scart I had got, though I had morroch*d through the mids
o't. I was glad at this, and gaed away, and saw the bonny
lasses o* the Cape." So goeth Sawnie on, and who would
not be pleased to listen ? but I shall let him rest at this time
until I bring out the strange ^^ Adventures of SawnUj the
Sailor.'' The following is two verses of his
WELCOME TO GALLOWA.
The whusky pig we'll fill fu*, the best things i' the house
Faith, we shall set afore ye ; gud Lord, man ! we'se be crouse ;
And owre the ills o' Fortune, like glorious souls shall craw
Thou'rt welcome hame, dearie Sawnie man, to bonny Galiowa.
At the Cape there wi' Sir Davie, and eke Mount Video,
What awfu' broiliments ye had wi' the mighty foe ;
\q drave the French and Spaniards as rain drives aff the sna,
O ! but ye're welcome, Sawnie man, to bonny Galiowa.
SAX SCA 421
Saxes and Sevens — To have all rid, a clear plan laid out,
is to have it all portioned in saxes and sevens,
ScADES o' Light — Flares, or flashes of light ; coloured light, as
it were.
ScAFFV Showers — Showers which soon blow by ; " a baul
scaffo) a shower," a pretty severe shower.
** A sun-sliiny shower, lasts not half an hour."
Auld say,
ScAiL — To separate; to scail the kim*an, to separate the
party.
ScALBERT — A low-lifed, scabby-minded individual.
ScARCEMENT — A shelf amongst rocks : a shelf leaning out
from the main face of a rock ; on scarcementSy build sea-
fowl.
ScARROW — ^The shadow. The scarroiv o* a hill, the shadow of
that hill ; the scarroiv d a craw, the shadow of a crow or
other bird, on the earth, while it flies in the air ; this is one
of our poetical words ; it means too something more than
mere shadow, but I cannot express the idea. To translate
Scottish into English, is no easy matter.
ScART — To scrape ; scartings, the scrapings of a pot
ScAUM o' THE Sky — The scum of the sky; the thin
white vapours of the atmosphere; a scaumy day^ a day
when the sun*s face is behind white thin clouds ; there is
red scauniy white scanm^ and many others. By the colour,
or hue of the scauniy do Watherwiseakers guess about
coming weather. Scaum, like scarrow^ is also a poetical
word.
Scaup — ^The scalp ; a bare scalps a bald head ; scaupy land,
bare land, thin of soil.
ScAURTS — A name for the black cormorant ; for why, this
bird hath its nest on scaurs or wild rocky places ; its com-
mon name is douker, because it is a great diver: also.
422 SCA SCR
Mochrum lairds^ because they have been, as it were, pro-
prietors there of a piece of wild shore, for an unknown
length of time ; and also, they are called Elders d Carvendy
from their black, grave, and greedy appearance, and being
common on Colvend shores.
ScAWD OR ScAUD — A disrespectful name for tea.
ScLATERS — A species of ear-wig ; also slaters. SclaUr^s eggs^
little white eggs like beads, found amongst red land.
Sclateband, a strata of slate amongst bands of rock.
ScLiFFANS — Useless thin shoes ; the same with sclotts,
ScLov — To slide; scloying, sliding; the same with sclying\ a
scloy or scly^ a slide.
ScoDGiNG — Looking sly. Scodgie, a suspicious person ; san^y
to pilfer, to half thief.
Scones — Soft bread ; cakes baked with flower,
ScooL — To scowl; scool d herrings a herring tack or shoal;
scooly a disorder with horses.
Scoot — To squirt water through a hollow tube ; scoot-gun^ a
syringe ; scoot ^ a scout^ a person on the look-out Cobblers
are termed scoutSy being always on the prowl. Scoaty a
wooden drinking caupy sometimes scoopy being wood scooped
out. Scootifu\ the full of a scoot ; scoot ikinSy drams of whisky ;
also scootUy to spill anything when a carrying.
ScowBS — Bended sticks for holding thatch down on houses ;
scowbedy bended ; sco%vb and scrawy a snug phrase.
ScoY — Anything badly made ; scoylochy an animal which plaits
its legs past others in walking.
ScRAFFLE or ScRAMMLE — When any one, such as a bridegroom,
or an electioneerer, flings loose coin among the mob, the
rabble is then said to scraffle or scrammle for it, or that the
scene is a scrammle.
ScRAicH or ScRAiGH — A shriek ; scraighton, a person fond of
screaming.
SCR SCU 423
ScRANNiE — An old, ill-natured, wrinkled, beldame.
ScRATT — A rit, as with a bier ; to be scratted, to be torn by
females.
ScRAWS — Thin turfs, pared with flaughter spades, to cover
houses.
ScREACH, Skreeh or ScRACH o' Day — The morning dawn ;
probably this word and scarrowy a. shadow, are connected ;
the shadow of the morning, the first appearance of light ; or
is it allied to scraigh^ shriek ? At this time, when the cock
crows or shrieks, hie the nocturnal wanderers to their
confine. Jamieson has it from creek d day, or crack, or break,
in this I do not just agree with him.
Screed — To rive ; the noise cloth makes in tearing.
ScREEL — A large rocky hill nigh the sea; a haunt for the
fox.
ScROGGS — Low bushes ; scroggie, scrunted.
ScROW — A large quantity of people ; no fixed number
though.
Scrubbers — ^Articles made of heather, for scrynging
naps, for washing. " Ony scrubbers the day, mistress?"
Sau'nie Rag's well known salutation to the gude wit^s d
Galloway,
Scuds — Lashes ; the same with scults.
Scuff — To touch, to graze, the scuff is the wind, as it were ;
the scuff of a cannon ^<7// blows a man to pieces.
ScuLLDUDDERY — Fomication. The following is the con-
cluding clause of an Antiburger's sermon : — " The time of
the Peatmosses is now at hand, my friens, when the lasses
will fling bits o' clods at the lads, my fricnsy and than they'll
seem to rin awa ye see, and the lads they'll follow them ;
whan heels owre gowdie will they gae as if something had
whurFd them, my friens ; the lads gae out owre them, and
424 SCU SHA
sae begins ScuUduddcru, my friens, which is the beginning o*
a evil, my friens^ and which sends mony a worthy chid to
hell, myfrtensy there to lie on a bed o' brimstone lowing biut
for ever mair. Amen, myfriens"
ScuN — Plan, craft A scunge, a sly fellow ; a maid seducer.
ScuRR — A low blackguard ; from Latin scurra^ a scoundid ;
scurTy any thing low ; scurru-thorns, low dwarf thorns, in
moorland glens.
S<:UTCH — To beat; scutching spurkle, a stick to beat flax;
scutchintoWf rough flax, the refuse of the scutching,
Sealch — The seal, the phoca; also a shiilcom or small
bunyion.
Seedie Ingles — Fires made with the husks of grain.
Seeping — Filtrating, circling slowly ; seeking vent ; seepSy sypes
or sykes, trivial springs.
Sellie — Self; seili^s ay sellie^ self is still for self.
Service — The funeral treat; the dredgy^ now much done
away with, a mse thing, for it was a custom hurtful to the
poor. Servets are the little trays the service was served
round to the gossips on ; it has been remarked, and with
truth, that those who take a dram most free of any, on
other x>ccasions, are modest at funerals as drinkers ; so
much then to their honour ; and it is only those unsociable
wretches who will not pay for a gill in a J*ub lie-house^
who are voracious at them, who ought (confound their
monyplies) to be shipped to Iceland, and pitched down the
crater of Heckla.
Sey or Sae — A shallow tub, used in cheese making.
Sha — What is said to a dog, when ordered to hunt ; sha-awa^
run you dog !
Shabb — To smuggle ; to send anything away privately.
Shack — A word used in encouraging a curr-dog to worry a
fox ; shack htm ! is the cry — from shake probably.
SHA SHI 425
Shachle — A weak animal, all shackled or shaken,
Shaird — A piece of furniture ill-put together; a skieging comxm.
Shallochy Land — Land of a shallow nature.
Shangan — A split stick put on a dog*s tail ; when collie comes
snuffing and snoaking about unco houses, this is put on his
tail, and so he hies goufling kame,
Shang o* Bread and Cheese — Apiece, a «///, a bite between
meals.
Shawp — ^An useless creature ; the stalk, as it were, without the
root
Shed — To separate ; to separate the calves from the cows, we
sked them.
Sheep-smearing — The art of smearing-sheep with oily matters,
so that they may better withstand the winter's cold,
termed laying ; whiles for the wool is laid aside, and the
tare poured into the lay by the Iterd's hand, like skeep^
clippings this a throng spell with Moor-farmers; and those
who wish to dip into moorland manners, should attend
a skeep-smearing bout ; there will the ear hear very as-
tonishing curiosities. I would much rather be at one of
these meetings than to see a play performed at Drury
Lane. Skeep-tade or skeep-tick^ an insect which feeds on the
blood of sheep; sluep-fawsy retreats beneath the moors
for sheep in winter ; skeep-tatking, confining sheep on a
piece of land until they tatlie or manure it.
Shillings — Shelled oats ; skilling kills, before the invention of
fatis, the seeds of com had to be sifted from it on a hill
in the wind, such hills were so called.
Shilpie — A person trembling always, a sycophant; a poet who
dreads critics, a being whom independence knows nothing
about ; a skilped, a shelled wretch, a heart stript of manliness.
Shinnie — A game described by Scottish writers by 'the
name of skintie ; the skins, or under parts of the legs are
426 SHI SHY
in danger, during the game, of being struck ; hence ^
name from shin, ShinofiSj sinews of the body.
Shittle — Any thing good for nothing.
Shi VELA vat's Hen — A hen which hath given over laying ; used
allegorically for females having done with child-bearing ; the
term is from Ireland, so ought to become obsolete.
Shoing the Auld Mare — A dangerous kind of sport ; a
beam of wood is slung between two ropes, a person gets on
to this, and contrives to steady himself^ until he goes through
a number of antics ; if he can do this he shoes the auld marty
if he cannot do it, he generally tumbles to the ground, and
gets hurt with the fall.
Shoing the Moss — ^When moss is stripped for peateastmg,
the upper turf is thrown into where peats have been taken
out, this preserves the soil of the moss ; this shoes it as
it were.
Shuggie Show — The amusement of boys on the slackropt,
riding and shoving one another in the curve of the rope;
they recite this to the swings —
" Shuggie Show, Druggie Draw,
'* Haud the grup, ye canna fa',
** Haud the grup, or do^Mi ye come,
** And danceth on your braid bum."
Shuttle o' Ice— The Scotch Glacier. A brook which
runs down a mountain's side is frozen, but the fountain
which supplies this brook keeps springing away ; new
water runs over the old, which is now ice, and there
freezes too ; in this way it continues with the frosty sea-
son, and or the thaw comes it is got to a great thickness,
and is always our last ice in thawing. School-boys slide
in rows down these shuttles, reminding travellers of the
Alpine hunters, descending with their goats to the valley
of Chaumonie.
Shvling — Not looking directly at an object, but out at a side ;
the leer of a skdl-faced vagabond.
SID SLA 427
SiDiE FOR SiDiE — Side by side.
SiLLAR Sawnies — PcHwinkles, common shells on shores.
SiLLAR Shakle — Silver shakle plant.
" The sillar shakle wags its pow,
** Upon the brae mv deary,
** The zephyr round the wunnelstrae,
•• Is wnistling never weary."
Auld sang,
Simie or Symie — When there are two things quite like one
another, we say they are like simie or symie, either of which
will answer for the name Simeon.
Sinn — ^To wash; to make clean. Probably, this and shane,
that which breaks witchcraft, are one; red-hot irons are
sometimes thrown into a chum, so that it may get, or that the
cream therein may become butter ; this is termed shaning.
Sinnie — The medical plant senna.
Sirse — Sirrahs.
Skellie — To look with one eye — to squint — to go astray.
Skemmling — Going astray ; a foolish way of throwing the legs.
Skepping Bees — The art of puttmg bees into their houses when
they hive.
Skerie — Somewhat restive. Ramskerie^ very restive and lust-
ful ; of the nature of a ram.
Skilts — Drinks of any thing. Skilting, drinking deeply.
Skin-Flint — A hard person; a grub, who would try to take the
skin ofif a flint stone.
Skinkle — To sprinkle, to sow thin. Skinks, bad pieces of flesh.
Skyb — A worthless fellow. Skyball, the same.
Slaggie — The land, or ice after a thaw, is said to be slaggie,
A slag-day with curlers, is a day on which the ice is thawing ;
from clog, comes this word.
Slap — A gap in a fence. Milking-slap, the place where cows
are milked at.
428 SLA SMO
Slargie-Stuff — Matter of a gluey nature.
Slawk — A slimy plant, which grows in bums and springs.
Sleeket — A person of a sly disposition ; smooth and deep.
Sleetch — A kind of fat mud, taken from shores to manure
land.
Sleug — An ill-behaved man ; also, one not good-looking.
Slew — To lean any thing to a side ; off the perpendicular.
Sunk — A greedy person ; a young calf before it is calved.
Slocher — A person careless in dress, particularly about the feet
Slomie — An ox is said to be slomie when it has on a £dse
appearance of flesh.
Slonk or Slonking — The noise our feet make when sinking in
a miry bog; also, when walking with shoes full of water.
Slouching^ a wetting. Slouched^ drenched.
Slough — A fat harmless man. A' fine slough d a cheel^ a harm-
less contented man.
Sluneoch — A person of a brutish disposition, who would do
all the harm he could, if he had the ability to project ; much
the same with Slunge,
Slype — To peel the skin off the flesh ; also a fellow who runs
much afler the female creation, yet has not the boldness
(though the willingness) to seduce any of them.
Sma* Family — A family of young children. Smattery, a quantity
of small articles.
Smeek — Smoke. Smeekcd, smoked.
Smeerikin — The sweetest of all kisses; the kiss one lover gives
another, when they are quivering in one another's arms : few
joys on earth exceed a smeerikin,
Smiddie Sparks — The sparks which fly off red iron when
beat
Smoik — A dish of good food ; to smoik. to feast on the best.
Smoit — A person who cliatters silly-bawdy matters.
SMU SNE 429
Smuddoch — A bad burning fire — more smoke than blaze.
Smudge — To smile when we should not, such as in a church.
To smudge, to try to suppress smiles, or laughter.
Smuist — Disagreeable smoke. Smuisted, smoked.
Smurr — Light rain, rather heavier than dew.
Snagger-snee — A large knife, first introduced from Germany.
Snam — To snap at any thing greedily.
Snapper — An unforeseen accident; a misfortune. Snap^
a little cake. Snap, a sharp noise. A veteran soldier once
told me, that he would not be afraid to take a whole corps
of Gentlemen Yeomanry Cavalry prisoners with a Snap-
candlestick,
Snastry — Low chat. Snash, converse hurtful to the feelings.
Snawbroe — Melted snow. Snaw 0^ the rink, the snow round
the sides of a nnk, or channlestone run.
Snawburds — Birds which visit us in winter. Snawhrcuk,
a thaw, which frequently raises rivers, and does great damage.
Snaw-powther, fine snow; when this begins to fall first in
a snow storm, its depth may be dreaded. Snaw-wrides,
wreaths of snow.
** Whan ere the wun began to shift,
** We dreaded faith some mair snaw,
** The sulky south began to rift,
•* And on it fell a sair snaw.
** The cluds came banking up fu* swift,
** The night did bring a &ir snaw,
** For or the morning, frae the lift
*' There fell an awfu lair snaw,
** And smoor'd the sheep."
Auld poent.
Sned — The long pole a scythe is fitted into for the purpose
of mowing with it; the nmt must be siccard in the den,
so that the blade may have a snanging sound. Bow^d Sneds
are preferred by mowers to straight ones, because they
enable them to keep their backs more upright when working,
and are not so apt to raise stitches.
430 SNE SOO
Sneel — ^To snivel ; to speak through the nose.
Sneep — The glitter or dazzling of a white colour, such as
snow.
Snegg — to interrupt ; to invite a broil ; to check, &c.
Snell — Any thing, whether animate or not, which biteth hard.
Snibble — A small piece of wood put through the end of
a rope, so that it may be fixed into an eye in the other
end.
Snifflin — Apparently throng, yet doing nothing.
Snirk — ^To give the nose a smart draw up with the membranes
of itself.
Snoit — A young conceited person who speaks little, thought
to be the beginning of some genius ; but alas ! it generally
remains a snoit all its days.
Snork — The snort of an affrighted horse.
Snotters — Snotts. The mucous, viscous matter of the nose.
SoAM — The iron of the head of a plough. Herring soam,
the fat of herrings. — Young girls throw this against a wall,
and if it adheres to it in an upright manner, then the
husband they get will also be so ; if crooked, he will be
crooked.
Sobersides — A creature of sober habits. Sobering, growing
sober.
SocY — A person who walks with a manly air, sockieng,
Sonkie — A man like a sonky or sackful of straw.
Sooper — A bunch of feathers for sweeping. Soopet, cleaned.
D^il soopity means cleaned neatly out. " The de'il soopet's
there," there is nothing there. Scoping, sweeping. Soopie,
the half of the flail, the half which sweeps round the head.
Sootipillies. — A moss plant, which grows on a thick stalk,
like a willow wand — the head is about half a foot long, and
of a sootie colour.
SOS sou 431
Soss — To fall with a soss ; to fall with all our weight SosSy a
mixture of various things for feeding dogs with.
SoTTER — To saturate; the noise of flesh roasting. The
damned are said to be set a sottering in hell.
Sough o* the Sea — The sound of the sea. Those skilled in
the weather, understand by this sound if any storms be
brewing, as the sea begins to speak before the sky. When
the sea thus doth growl, farewell to fair weather for a while ;
when the dumb swaul comes heaving over the sand bank,
and its bottom rubs the bar, then the surge curves and
curls with indignation a-top, spreading its wrath in a white
sheet of foam, which, for a while, remains together on the
billows, like flower lime spread on red land. The black
rock looking out of the sulky deep, seems to have a white
ruff round its neck ; the gloomy bank appears over the
southern horizon; the ships come tilting over the waves
to places of shelter, when turning down the swell of the
billow, the rudder waves in air, and then swing they round,
lurching in the hollow of the sea, while the maws fly skying
by the sounding shore, and the raven seems to rejoice in
the coming storm : —
Let me gang whar I will, o'er the hills smoor*d in snaw,
Or the black boiling ocean, to lands far awa' ;
A day ne'er flees o'er me but it brings to my mind.
The dear rural scenes which I hae left behind ;
Ahame wi' my friends, whom I'll ever adore,
Wha pleasantly dwell on the Soloway shore.
O ! the days I hae run on the warm shelly beach,
And gather'd the beauties the waters do bleach,
Wi' my dear youthfu' cronnies, now far, far frae me,
Will we ne'er meet again, and there frolic sae free ;
O, this makes me sorrow, and often deplore.
For we'll ne'er trip again on the Soloway shore.
Was the garden o' Eden yet flourishing grand,
Wi' its roses and sweets, all around on each hand,
Was a fair Arab dame, blushing joyous with love,
To invite me to live in her gay spiccy grove,
I'd fling them aside, and go where the waves roar.
Round the I^nd of my Home, on the Soloway shore.
432 SOU SPA
SouROCKS — Sorrel ; smtr scanty literally sour bread, but used
to represent something disagreeable; as when a person
without cause lashes the character of another, he is said to
be making himself a sour scone,
Souter'd — ^We say a card-player is souter^d^ when he loses alL
Sow BY THE Lug — ^When a fellow wishes to play away upon
another, so that he may show his own ability, and lower the
other's in the eyes of the world, and if this one deceives
him, and has greater talents than he was aware of, we say he
has taken the wrong sow by the lug \ one whom he can neither
" hap nor win by the ear," according to Hubibras.
SowDiE — A dirty woman, partaking much of the nature of a
sow.
SowLOCHiNG — ^Wallowing in mire, like a sow.
Sowp — ^A washer-woman's term ; when washing, she gives the
clothes \iti first sowp, and then again her second saivp ; which
means, first and second washes.
SowsE — A swinging heavy blow \ sometimes a load.
Spaig — A person \vith long, ill-shaped legs.
Spain, or Spean — To wean ; to take a young animal from
sucking its mother.
Spaivers — Persons who libb and spaive cattle ; to libb, is to
castrate a male animal ; to spaive^ to do a female ; the for-
mer is an easy matter to do, in comparison with the latter.
A young cow with calf, that is to say, an open quey^ Hnll not
speave ; neither will a cow that has had a calf, nor twin
female calves. All castrated females are marked in the ear ;
to mark them so, is to heifer them.
Spales — Chips ; spales d the cannle, little curls of tallow, which
sometimes appear on a burning candle, paid some attention
to by the superstitious.
Spang — To leap, to spring ; spang-tade, a deadly trick
played on the poor toad ; a small board is laid over a
SPA SPI 433
stone, on the one end of which is put the reptile; the
other end is then struck by a hard blow, which drives the
toad into the air, and when it falls it is generally quite
dead. Spang-mWy any thing quite new ; spang- fire-neuf^
the same; spanging^ leaping; spangte, an animal fond of
leaping.
Spanker — ^A tall, well-made woman; spankering hizzie^ a
tall, nimble girl.
Sparrables — Hob-nails for shoes.
Spartle — ^To kick with the feet, to paw.
Spate — A large fall of rain, a spout.
Spawls — Legs ; spawldrochie^ long-legged.
Speddart — A tough old creature, tight as a wire; speedart,
the spider.
Speil — To climb ; also, any sort of play or game ; thus a boor
who takes his meat well is said to play a good speil at the
porridge coag.
Spelks — Sharp speals or points of iron, starting off from the
mass it belongs to ; spelked, ragged wood.
Spell and Spell — ^Tum by turn; working so at labour.
Spindrift — The spume of the sea; the spray.
BEN SPINDRIFT, THE OLD PILOT.
Ay, yonder is Ben Spindrift,
Launching his little boat,
Adown the beach beneath the clift,
Now he has it afloat.
Off he shoves a sculling,
Where does he mean to steer ?
Now he strips and 's pulling,
The good old Timoneer.
His bonnet, too, he's doffing.
He means to have a trip.
Away out to the offing,
To meet a foreign ship.
And safely in he'll bring her.
O'er sand-bank and bar.
And on the cables swing her,
Were she a man of war.
2 E
434 SPl SPI
A cannon is heard roaring
A little to the lea ;
Ay, yonder cometh snoring,
A vessel from the sea.
The pilot's flag's down hauling,
For Ben has got aboard,
And's on his trumpet bawling.
To watchful tars the word.
The captain's minding nothing,
Good Ben's the captain now ;
See how the brine is frothing,
And rising o'er the bow.
Up in the breeze they heave her.
The anchor's 'neath the tide,
Now old Ben doth leave her.
The captain by his side.
O was my little reason
As good a pilot's Ben,
Through the most stormy season,
I right could steer me then.
On rocks I'd ne'er be crashing.
And weeping with despair,
But merrily on be dashing,
So trig and debonair.
Sleep soundly on my pillow.
My conscience would not sting,
And on each surging billow
Of life I'd sit and sing.
None like me for a steerer.
Then moralists would see ;
For no jiber nor no jeerer.
Would then e'er pester me.
Through mankind ever mobbing.
How would I jog along.
My heart most softly throbbing,
My fancy ever strong.
Earth would delight to have me,
I'd then be no outcast.
Heaven with joy would save me,
And lead me home at last.
Spinnleshanks — A creature with small legs.
Spinnling — Grain is said to be spinnling^ when it i
shooting.
Spirg — As much liquid as will moisten one*s lips.
Spirnlings — Small burntrouts.
Spirran — An old female of the nature of a spider.
SPI STA 435
Splae-feet — Feet which are rather inclined to let their
sides appear foremost ; spleriner, to stride.
Splatch — A patch of dirt j sphit, a little liquid filth.
Splinter-new — Any thing quite new.
Splunting — The same with sproaging, running after girls
undernight This work ran higher with the higher ranks in
Galloway once, but these days are away.
Spoutroch — Weak thin drink, bad whisky.
Sprawchled — Sprawled ; sprawchling^ sprawling.
Sproozle — To struggle, sometimes stroozle.
Spruce — Very neat and well-looking ; a young fellow is said to
spruce himself up, when he sets forward to see his lass, or only
darling.
Spy-ann — A game of hide and seek, with this difference, that
when those are found who are hid, the finder cries spyann ;
and if the one discovered can catch the discoverer, he has a
ride upon his back to the dools,
Squach — The noise a hare makes when a killing.
Squeef — A bbckguard; one who rails against woman, and
yet is fain to seduce them. I hope all my readers are per-
fectly aware, that I am quite on the womatis side always. I
have no sins on my head, thank God, for injuring innocent
woman, and I hope never shall. He is no maUy say I, who
triumphs over female frailty.
Squirr — To skim a thin stone along the water.
Staggie — Grain is said to grow staggie, when it grows thin ;
stallyoch, a thick stalk of grain standing by itself; stag^nli, a
person who staggers in walking.
Stane-chacker — The bird stone-chatter, for why, it keeps
chattering about rocks, and old stone walls. This bird is
much detested in the country, because it is said to be
" hatched by the toad." T/ie fade clocks the stane-chacker^ s
eggSy is the phrase, which may be partly true, as the toad is
436 STA STA
often found in its nest, for they make their nest both in one
hole. It is singular such a beautiful bird should be naturally
fond of the toad*s dirty mansion ; but so it is. I have seen
a fair and good-looking young man toy with one lovely female
after another, until his gay season fled, and espousing at last
an old harridan, verifying tlie adage, " that he wba is ill to
please will land in the dirt at last." Now, though the toad
may be often found in this bird's nest, yet its body is of too
cold a nature to hatch its eggs. In the country they look at
this bird with the same sensations, almost, that they do at a
female prostitute; they imagine it chatters the following
rhyme, and its injunctions are obeyed : —
" Stane Chack, devil tak'
" They wha heme my nest,
** Will never rest, will meet the pest,
** De'il brak* their lang back,
*' Wha my eggs would tak, tak.**
Stanegraze — A bruise from a stone.
Stan ERA w — A yellow-coloured moss which grows on rocks,
and is used in dyeing.
Stank-lochens — Dead lakes, covered with grass ; duck-/iaunts;
stank-henSy water-hens.
Stammager — A busk : a slip of stay-wood, used by females.
Stapples — Thatch made in handfuls, for thatching.
Starn — A small quantity of any thing ; same with syne.
Star o' Dungvle — A few years ago, the most beautiful
woman in Galloway was a Miss H ; her father was a
laird. Keltonhill fair was often by her laid in dust and
ashes, for no girl was looked at or admired in all the fair
but Miss H . The celebrated Maggy Lauder never
so much attracted the attention of the crowds in Ansier
Loan^ whatever Tennant may say to the contrary. Many
and many a Rob the Ranter had she; her featiu*es ran
exactly in the curve of exquisite beauty, and were aliivTiys
kept in the most enchanting animation ; her eyes, her hair
ST A ST A 437
her lips, were the most charming objects man could behold
— they set the most callous a burning with love ! every move-
ment she made was of the most attracting and engaging
nature. The Irishmen from Ballinasloe would have left both
their horses and oxen, and joined the crowd that followed
Miss H , bawling out " By J^apers, sh^s the game ; O !
honey, if I had thee but at the sweet town oi Limavadie ;^^
another, " By the Long bridge of Belfast^ Barney's eyes never
saw such a girl ; Td fight for her with my mother of the sloe,
till all the bones in my body were bettled to mummy." The
sons of yohn Bull beyond the Tweed got also enamoured
of Miss H J but the good boxer or bruiser were the only
persons who could get to speak to her, and she was always
fonder of that class, than of well-bred rich-dressed gentle-
men. In short, for all her beauty and elegance, the low
and mean were her associates, and she cared not what
length she went with them almost ; would lay in bams with
them at night, put on beggar weeds, and bade farewell to
virtue altogether, and bore to some of them bastard children :
yet, for all this, wherever she appeared in proper array, all
Galloway was charmed with the lovely Miss H . Beauty
of the very first order, in defiance of vice, brought her always
crowds of admirers, who obeyed every nod of her head,
every wave of her hand : her sway was truly despotic in the
world of gallantry. A strong blacksmith^ who could not get
her entirely to himself, got so mortified, that he would off,
and perish in the wilderness of Canada for her sake / away
he went to the banks of Lake Huron, but was not there long
before a letter followed him from Miss H , inviting to
return again to Galloway, and she would assuredly marry him.
Back over the Atlantic the son of Vulcan came, true to her
mandate ; but alas ! how must he have been deceived when
the dear Miss H disdained to look or speak to him? Thus
she wielded the sceptre of love ! He afterwards became a
gamekeeper, and she really married an old cattle dealer , who
438 STA SlI
had weeped about her many years ; to whom she acted the
part of not a bad wife — had a family — is yet living ; but, Hke
the celebrated Afary of Buttermere, the beauty of Cumberland^
her beauty hath entirely fled her ; she will be remembered in
Galloway not only by the songs of her Laureates^ but by
hundreds of others, years unseen yet ; her popular name was,
" The Star of Dungxier
The following verses were supposed to have been sung by
her lover, the blacksmith, when coming back over the ocean —
For thee, my dear Miss H-
ril ride out outc the roaring sea ;
0 ! happy vvill be Gerron
When he does kiss and cuddle thee.
1 wad come to thee, Miss H ,
Far, far ayont America ;
Thou's a* and a' to Gerron
O ! to see thee and Galloway.
My bonny love, Miss H-
For thee my heart does melt awa !
O ! were ye as fond o' Gerron,
Wad ever there be sic a twa !
Staverall — A bad walking foolish person.
Stawd — To be slawd^ to be satiated ; to feel a loathing.
Sted — A trace. Fit-stcd, a foot track, such as Crusoe startled
at on the sand. Steding d houses, the ground on which an
onset is built.
Steekers — Shoe ties. Sleek your ecn, shut your eyes.
Stegg — The gander goose. Sfegging, to walk like a
sfeg
Stell — A prop ; a support. Stell your feet, fix your feet so as
not to fall. The stell d the stack, the stick which props the
stack.
Sticket — Any job is said to be sticket when it is broke off in
the middle, like the tail of the Bear and tfie Fiddle, A
speech is sticket when the speaker is unable to proceed.
The captain of a volunteer body once sticked, or stuck up
STl STR 439
with a speech he had framed with great pains for a gala-day ;
then looked he into his hat, where it lay wrote on paper ;
but alas ! the confusion of his mind ere this time had blinded
him; he could not read a word, but retreated in a lamentable
situation.
Stilch — A young, fat, unwieldy man.
Stiveron — Any very fat food, such as that of a haggis,
Stog — One with a stupid kind of gait — stogging,
Storg — A large pin. Stotgingy the noise a pin makes rushing
into flesh.
Stotts — Castrated oxen ; the stotts mean the black cattle. A
cattle jobber once told me, that he would rather see a good
stott stirk as Buonaparte ! all men to their fancy.
Stowl or Stole — A scion from a root. Thin-sown com on
good land is said to spread by stowling,
Stowre — Dust. A person at a diet d examine once, was asked
by the priest, "What he was made of?" he forgot the
English term dust^ and gave the Scotch, stowre^ which made
the diet bm^t into laughter.
Stragg — A thin growing crop, the stalks straggling.
Stramash — ^A battle; a broil; a battering and mashing con-
cern ; the same with siram yulloch,
Strang — Old urine, kept in the Strang pig, and used in
washing.
Strapps — Bands for binding grain with. Strapping Hizzies,
tight-bound girls ; females of a strong, well-knit frame.
Stravagers — Wanderers ; beggars ; idle people.
Streen — An abridgement of yestreen, or yester evening. The
streeti^s milk, the milk of yester evening.
Stribbed — Milked neatly. Slribbings, the last milk that can
be drawn out of the udder.
440 STR STR
Strife Riggs — Debateable ground ; patches of land common
to all ; land which none is laird of.
Striffan — Film, thin skin. Siriffan d an egg^ that white film
inside an egg-shell.
Stoing o' Wullgeese — A string of wild geese ; these birds
come to us from the Norlan nations in strings.
Frae Baltic's lided sea o' sua',
Or frozen loch i'e north awa.
Ye cackling come fu' merry a*
For some lee shore,
Whar flysome icebergs dinna bla,
Nor monsters snore.
Ye come, led by your chosen king,
Some champion steg wha heads your string ;
For whan ye do in figure fling
Your core, I see
Him, always on the foremost wing.
Point-angle he.
The Firth wharin he once did dabble.
Or benty flow, he used to gabble.
And after paddocks rais'd a jabble,
Wi' swattering cheer ;
Without a compass he is able.
There straight to steer.
I see ye yet, far south, south-west.
Ye mean to flee, or ye will rest ;
Your guide kens weel what place is best
To pai>s the night ;
Now motis ye seem, now clouds molest,
Ye lae my sight.
Again, tho' may be in the spring.
Whan ye return on Norlan wing,
I'll see your joyous cackling string;
Sae happy a ,
By me, poor soul, wha here doth sing
My griefs awa.
I'm no like you, can flee before
The wintry hurricanes that roar.
The nipping hail that galls me sore.
The frosts and snaws ;
But here I maun on a cauld shore.
Endure what blaws.
Nor can I, (like ye) whan the heat
Begins to make me strip and sweat.
To caller climates fast retreat,
WTiar Sol's returning ;
But pant below his beams, that beat
In summer burning.
STR SUG 441
It's queer indeed to think o' man,
For a' we plot, for a* we plan ;
And toil dreigh wi' the head and han,
To bide the weather ;
The wild geese (let's do a' we can)
Are snugger rather.
Like them, we canna change our clime
Whan we think fit, at any time.
To riot on the best sublime
That suits our maw ;
We're villains, chained for a crime.
To fret and thraw.
But, tho' that be our wretched state.
Let us enjoy'd at any rate.
And winch not 'neath the lash of fate,
Wi' sobbing moans ;
God surely ne'er did us create.
To hear our groans.
Then grim November round me scowl.
Ye lapperd clouds conglobe and roll.
Ye gurly blasts remorseless howl
O'er land and sea ;
I hope Heaven has gaen me a soul
To manly dree.
Strood^ — ^Very old shoes.
Strum — The first draw of a fiddle-bow over the fiddle-
strings.
** Dirdum, drum,
" Three threads and a thrum."
Cat^ssong,
Stryne — To strain. Strytid iegs^ sprained legs.
Stumpie — A little good-natured creature.
Stunch — ^A lump of food, such as of beef and bread.
Stunner — A big foolish man. Stunner d a gowk^ a mighty
fool.
Sturdy — A disorder with sheep ; also a plant which grows
amongst com, which, when eaten, causes giddiness and
torpidity to come on.
Sturnill — An ill turn ; a back-set.
Styme — A little light ; a gleam. / canna see a styme, I cannot
see the least glimmer of light
SUGGAN — ^A thick bed-coverlid. Tawted rug, the same.
442 SUG SYZ
SuGGiE Lan — Wet land. Sump^ a great fall of rain. Sumped^
to be wet: —
Since the hour of my birth, on this wearisome earth,
Tve been tumbled and toss'd to and fro ;
But now with the dead, I must lay down my head.
On this bluid sumped field — Waterloo.
The z*eterat^ s farewell.
SuppiE Mae — The name for a pet sheep.
SwACK — Plenty and good. Swcuking noiot, fat large animals
Swag — To swing. Swagging^ swinging.
Swamped — An animal is said to be swamped when it seems
clung, or clinkei, or thin in the belly.
Swatter — ^To swim close together in the water, like young
ducks.
SwATTRocH — Strong soup, excellent food.
SwuLL — A large swell. Swallings, swellings. Swaultie^ a fat
animal.
SwEER Tree — A trial of strength. Two persons sit down feet
to feet, and catch a stick with their hands ; then, whoever
lifteth the other is the strongest
SwEiL — Any thing which hath a circular motion.
Swinge — To lash.
Swingle Trees — The wood beams by which horses draw
ploughs and harrows.
Syling — Sieving milk through a syle ; a fluid sieve.
SvPLE — A saucy, big-bellied person.
Symion-Brodie — A toy for children ; a cross stick.
Syzzie — To shake. He na'er syzzied me, he never shook
me : —
Misfortune, fire away, ye bitch I
Come level well, and \'izzie me ;
For fear o' thee I shall not flinch,
The de'il e'en cudna syzzie me.
Yestreen I met a gruesome witch,
She wi' her breath did whizzie me ;
Then ne.ith the lug lent me a litch,
Gude faith, the whap did dizzie me.
IVarlocHs Wadding,
TAG TAM 443
T.
Tacking — A taking, a prize, ffcf ring-tack, a herring shoal.
IVend — When schoolboys catch one another in their games,
they lay their hands on the heads of the one caught ;
this ceremony is termed taening or taking: a catcher has
often more trouble in doing this, than in catching. After
a runner is taend, he is not allowed to run any more in that
game.
Taff-dyke — A fence made of turf.
Tahie — Moist ; tahie, or dahie day, a warm misty day.
Tailill — A distemper common with cows. The tail is some-
times cut quite away, ere a cure be effected.
Tallow-leaf — The leaf of fat which envelops the inwards of
animals. When an ox or a sheep has a gude tallow-leaf, it
is considered to have fed weel, and to be deep on the rib,
Tallow-pou'k, a bag through which melted tallow is strained
when refining ; this po^vk is much used on the day o* the
cannle-making, formerly a great day in household matters.
I may give a list of the other celebrated days. "The
day o' sauting tJie beef, the day o' brewing, the washing day,
and the one in which the cheese is made, termed, the
sweetmilfur'^' —
*' Her tallonu-porwk hide, she scryng'd in the tide."
People with tanny skins are said " to hae hides as din as
the tallo7v-powkr
Tamous Kinnigham — Mr. Thomas Cunningham, brother
of Allan, a writer from his youth, well-kno^vn in the Scot-
tish Magazine, signing himself there Thomas Killigrew,
His chief article is the Bride d Balauchan, full of excel-
lent humour. This gentleman is a native of Galloway,
but has long been one of the Londoners; still the affec-
444 TAM TEN
tion for the land oi blue heather is strong, and the scenes of his
youth flash brightly before the fancy. Like his brother, he is a
poet, and one too of considerable pith ; his strain is ratherlj
comic, that of Allan's melancholy. Mr. T. could write a
famous comedy would he try it, but-like the great writers of
the age, he detests the stage. It is to be hoped that he will
give us another " She stoops to Conquer ; " no present writer,
perhaps, could do this much better, he having at command
such a fund of contented humour, and an extent of informa-
tion respecting the ways of the world which is endless.
Tam-o'-tae-End — The prince of the pudding tribe^ the hag^
being king. It hath but one open end; hence the name Tam
of the one end.
Tantrums — Foolish fancies ; the same with Doldrums,
Taploch — ^Tawploch, or tawpie, a giddy-brain girl.
Tap o' Tow — A head of flax; anything of fiery nature; a
quick-tempered person, like flax, easily kindled.
Tathing — Manuring land, by confining cattle on it.
Ted — To toss ; tedding hay^ tossing hay ; tedding alang^ tossing
along.
Tee — A mark to be played for. Teedling, singing a tune
without accompanying it with the words; tce-heej a fool's
laugh. The goaf was tee-hecing, the fool was at his mer-
riment
Teevoo — A young man who flashes about with ladies, but has
no great aff*ection for them ; one who learns the rules of
affection, who s^ueethearfs with warmness seemingly; who
goes a larking as others do, but never feels the genuine
throbs of love : with him it is as the play actors say, " All my
eye and Betty Martin."
Temper-pin — A pin which tempereth machinery.
Tennrills — Dry twigs ; tender or tenner matters, tendrils.
TET THO 445
Tetuz — Any thing tender ; a delicate person.
Teypard — Tapered ; a high frail building is said to be a
teypard biggin,
Thacking Spurkle — A broad-mouthed stick for thatching with.
Tharty — Thirty, the number, sometimes thratty ; Irish,
thurty,
Thiggers — People who thigg^ are those who beg in a genteel
way ; who have their houses they call at in certain seasons,
and get com, and other little things.
Thirlage — A species of slavery. Many farmers are yet
thirled to certain nulls, being obliged to have their com
ground in these, and in no other, or else to pay the millers
of such a certain annual sum in money. They were brought
under this bondage first when mills in the country were rare,
when a few lairds subscribed to build and uphold a mill.
In this way many mills were built, and all erected by such
compactions are thirling mills,
Thoum — ^Thumb. Thmim-syme^ an instrument for twist-
ing ropes, a thrawcrook; thoum-rapes^ ropes twisted on
the thumb —
TTiey wha canna make a thoum-rape
O' thratty thrmvs and three ;
Isna worth their mett, I wot,
Nor yet their penny fee.
Auld say.
Thow — Thaw. Thaia-hole, a name for the south, for the
wind generally blows out of the south in the time of a
thaw —
The mermaids can ought thole,
Butywj/ out o* the thow hoU,
Auld superstitious say.
Indeed, frost, when the wind blows from the south, is
most severe with cold of any from any other quarter ; it is
an unnatural cold.
446 THR THR
Thrawen-days — Name for a petted child ; sometimes, auid
thrawen days.
Thread o* Blue — Any little smutty touch in song-singing,
chatting, or piece of writing ; perhaps there n)ay be a few in
this book, but if modesty is not absolutely insulted, these, if
not too gross, are not fraught with much harm : all worb
which stand the test of ages are not free of these threads,
even the Bibk itself is not clear. When nature is followed
close, it is almost impossible to avoid them —
O ! thev who feel the pith and flame
Of manly strength, obtaineth fame.
Who look to neither left nor right.
But dash on forward, full of might ;
Who scorn to take a hint, a plan.
From humble creature — mortal man,
Feel those delights felt by the brave,
Who scorn like hell the sorry slave,
Who for themselves will ever think.
And do the will in prose or clink,
Which still shall be the way with me.
Though poor or richt, I shall be free.
Thridd — ^Third. "Twa part and thridd^' the two-thirds of
any thing ; anciently, the quarter-staff was held " twa-part
and thridd," one third part of it beneath hand, the other
iwo-thirds above. Thus the way, when —
*' Robin Hood, in the gTeenwood stood,
** Amang his mercy men all."
Thirst — Thirst Thirsty thrapplCy thirsty throat —
** Thy thirsty thrapple nought can sloken,
** Nae imp in hell thy visage gloken."
CocM'leary'lay.
Throch-stanes — Those oblong stones which stand horizontally
above graves, not the vertical ones ; the headstones.
Through-bands — The long stones which bind dykes.
Through-gaiift, one who reflects little, but dashes away, is
a through-gaun person. Through-the-wud, taddie, a phrase
much the same with craw-plucking. Throok the wyle, the
thrawcrooky the tivister.
THR THR 447
Thryst — A promise to do any thing, a kind of vow; to set a
t/trysty to make a promise to perform something at a certain
place and time: a young man and an old maid once
set a thryst to meet one evening, and have some private
confab with other in a glen ; she was punctual to the hour,
and so he, but his intentions were different from her's ; he
kept himself concealed, to observe her motions, while she
longed to behold him ; at length, despairing of his appear-
ance, she uttered the following, in great wrath —
*• O ! Rab, O ! Rab, shal't thou make me sab,
** Thou beardless boy, sae slee ;
" Na down my face, for thy cunning race,
** A tear shanna flow frae me.
'* Nettles be thy bed, on soot be ye fed,
** And may thy bonny gill pie, Nell,
" Entice ye advise, till Nickie Een will prize ye,
** And yomf ye head foremost to hell.
Throwing the Hoshen — At weddings, when the time of
bedding comes on, the yovng fcm^k are surrounded by the
people at the wedding, to witness the ceremony ; one part
of which is, that the bride takes the stocking off her left
leg, and flings it at random amongst the crowd, and who-
ever it happens to hit will be the first of them who will
get married. This custom prevails too in Ireland ; see the
song of Paddy's Weddings O, While on this subject, I
may mention a thing connected with wedlock, which is not
very well known in the middle parts of Galloway, but
common away by the border. \Vhen a young woman gets a
husband before her sister, who is older, this sister, at her
wedding, must dance without shoes on her feet. In a
lovely little original poem, termed Malliis Wadding Day,
by an Annandale lady of native poetic genius, the following
verses hit this affair —
** O ! how can I be biyth and gay,
'* Whan this is Mallies wadding day,
** For I should yirVj/ ha'e been away ?
" O .' she has beat me clean."
448 THR THR
" Alas ! puir me, what will I do,
'* This dav maun dance without a shoe
•* Maun thole the scorn o' a* fowk too ?
** And lie my lane ateen, O ! "
Of all the songs and poems belonging to the south of
Scotland which have come through my rummaging hand,
(and many a worthy bunch have), not any of female com-
position have taken my taste half so much as those of the
young lady lately mentioned; and though modesty holds
my tongue from telling her name, I cannot refrain from
letting the world have a little peep at her poetic talents,
which, if cultivated perhaps a little more, bid fair for giv-
ing Scotland another Miss Bailly, or one with power equal
to her, though directed in quite a different way. In her
farewell td Kinmount witness the tenderness, feel the
feeling —
Dear frien's, I now maun bid adieu
To a* my native scenes and you.
My sunny haunts, whan life was new,
O ! I maun gang and leave ye.
Dear Annandale, a garland's due.
Fain wad I wreath it fair for you,
For aft your vale I've wandered through,
Now I maim gang and leave ye.
Fair Kinmount woods, where aft I stray *d
And seen the leaves aft bud and fade ;
Fareweel now to your rustic shade.
For I maun gang and leave thee.
Nae mair maun Criffle I descry.
And Skidda through the hazy sky,
Nae mair the Firth glide smoothly by,
O ! wae am I to leave ye.
Wae am I to gang away,
Hut while my fancy it can stray.
Thy image never will decay
Tho' I maun gang and leave ye,
Fareweel, I lea my calm retreats
For dusky domes, and crowded streets,
My heart with throbbing sorrow beats,
O ! maun I gang an* leave ye?
THU TOD 449
Thudd — A blow; "to fa' wi' a thudd,' to fall, and cause a
noise like thudd^ to start.
Thunner — Thunder ; thunner-plump, a thunder-shower.
TTmnner-speal, a board with a string in end ; when whirled
round in the air, it causes a thundering sound. Thunnery
weather^ weather pregnant with thunder.
Tickers — Little fiery pimples, young whisky tackets, girrons.
Tick — A sheep-louse ; tickings the noise of a watch.
TiD — Inclination ; the inspiration, of small duration.
Tift — Anything as it ought to be. A poet's muse is in tift
when she sings well ; com also is in tift when it is dry, viz.,
in tift to lead,
TiGG-TOw — To touch and go, to be off and on, neither serious
nor merry ; to tigg tow wV a lass, to seem inclined to marry
her, yet to hang off; it is a shame to use females so ; to run
lengths with them, and then come retrograde. To tig-tow
with talents, to show the world a part and keep a part, to
seem to range through the regions of genius, and all of a
sudden to dart into a brock-hole. " To show the fins of the dol-
phin," to flash whiles in silk, then hotter dhoMt in hodden grey,
TiLLiE-CLAY — Cold clay, unproductive soil; the heart that
never felt love, is said to be a piece of tillie clay ; tillie licks,
taunts and sneers.
Ti MM ERIN — A beating with a stick.
Tinkler's-tippence — Useless cash, money full of harm.
TiRLiES — Little circular stoppages in pathways which turn
round.
TiRRAN — A tyrant ; a tirrivee ; a painful bustle ; a commotion
of strife. Tissle, a struggle ; same with dissle,
ToD-DYKES — Dogs half foxes, half common dogs ; shep-
herds tether their het bitches about fox-haunts, and so this
breed of dogs is acquired; they are said to be excellent
hunters. Tod-tracks, the traces of the fox's feet in snow;
2 F
448 THR THR
** Alas ! puir me, what will I do,
** This dav maiin dance without a shoe
** Maun thole the scorn o' a* fowk too?
** And lie my lane ateen, O ! "
Of all the songs and poems belonging to the south of
Scotland which have come through my rummaging hand,
(and many a worthy bunch have), not any of female com-
position have taken my taste half so much as those of the
yoimg lady lately mentioned ; and though modesty holds
my tongue from telling her name, I cannot refrain from
letting the world have a little peep at her poetic talents,
which, if cultivated perhaps a little more, bid fair for giv-
ing Scotland another Miss Bailly, or one with power equal
to her, though directed in quite a different way. In her
farewell td Kinmount witness the tenderness, feel the
feeling —
Dear friends, I now maun bid adieu
To a* my native scenes and you,
My sunny haunts, whan life was new,
O ! I maun gang and leave ye.
Dear Annandale, a garland's due,
Fain wad I wreath it fair for you,
For aft your vale I've wander'd through,
Now I maun gang and leave ye.
Fair Kinmotint woods, where aft I stray'd
And seen the leaves aft bud and fade ;
Fareweel now to your rustic shade.
For I maun gang and leave thee.
Nae mair maun Criffle I descry.
And Skidda through the hazy sky,
Nae mair the Firth glide smoothly by,
O ! wae am I to leave ye.
Wae am I to gang away,
I5ut while my fancy it can stray.
Thy image never will decay
Tho' I maun gang and leave ye,
Fareweel, I lea my calm retreats
For dusky domes, and crowded streets,
My heart with throbbing sorrow beats,
O ! maun I gang an' leave ye?
THU TOD 449
Thudd — A blow ; " to fa' wi* a thudd^' to fall, and cause a
noise like thudd^ to start.
Thunner — ^Thunder ; thunner-plump, a thunder-shower,
Tkunnerspeaiy a board with a string in end ; when whirled
round in the air, it causes a thundering sound. Thunnery
weather, weather pregnant with thunder.
TiCHERS — Little fiery pimples, young whisky tackets, girrons.
Tick — A sheep-louse / ticking, the noise of a watch.
TiD — Inclination ; the inspiration, of small duration.
Tift — Anything as it ought to be. A poet's muse is in ti/t
when she sings well ; com also is in tift when it is dry, viz.,
in tift to lead,
TiGG-TOw — To touch and go, to be off and on, neither serious
nor merry ; to tigg taiv 7vV a lass, to seem inclined to marry
her, yet to hang off; it is a shame to use females so ; to run
lengths with them, and then come retrograde. To tig-taw
with talents, to show the world a part and keep a part, to
seem to range through the regions of genius, and all of a
sudden to dart into a brock-hole, " To show the fins of the dol-
phin," to flash whiles in silk, then hotter ^ibowi in hodden grey.
TiLLiE-CLAY — Cold clay, unproductive soil ; the heart that
never felt love, is said to be a piece of ti/lie clay ; tillie licks,
taunts and sneers.
TiMMERiN — A beating with a stick.
Tinkler's-tippence — Useless cash, money full of harm.
TiRLiES — Little circular stoppages in pathways which turn
round.
TiRRAN — A tyrant ; a tirrivee ; a painful bustle ; a commotion
of strife. Tissle, a struggle ; same with dissle,
ToD-DYKES — Dogs half foxes, half common dogs ; shep-
herds tetJur their het bitches about fox-haunts, and so this
breed of dogs is acquired; they are said to be excellent
hunters. Tod-tracks, the traces of the fox's feet in snow;
2 F
450 TOM TOO
he is such a regular walking animal, that by the marks of
his feet he seems to have but two, for why, he sets his hind
feet exactly in the track of the fore ones. Tod-touzing, the
Scottish method of hunting the fox, by shooting, bustling,
guarding, halloaing, &c., famous fun, without a regular plaa
Tomer ALL — A horse two years old ; a young cout or staig.
TooM-SKiN*D — Hungry ; a person so is said to be ioom-
skin'd ; toom, empty ; tommacks, little hillocks ; to ioom out,
to pour out, to make empty.
TooRRiN — Hay is said to be toorrin, when it rises on the rake
in raking ; a fire is also said to be so when blazing freely.
Toorish, a dairy-maids term to the cows when she wishes
them to stand still.
Toot — To drink ; to toot over, to drink over \ toot, to sound a
horn, or the sound of a horn.
TooTiN-HORN — A bullock's horn, with the heart out of
it, used for blowing or " tootin " through, about some
farm-houses ; these horns are much in use in the harvest-
time, such as about meal-times, and create some hilarity.
Two Scotch soldiers having got a month's furlough from
their regiment, quartered somewhere in England, to go
and see their friends beyond the Tweed, set off from the
barracks in high spirits ; but alas ! poor fellows, before they
had joumied far to the north, poverty beset them, "and
the devil and all his witches danced in their poor pouches."
No manner of relief then could they find, but to sing
undemight for ^'^ bau*hecs'' in the large towns on their
way ; and it was all they were able this way to procure as
much cash as keeped in the life ; for one of them could
sing little or none, and the other was not good at it
However, the one who could not sing was a trumpeter, and
by good luck had his tootin-horn'' with him, which often
got them a dinner, when sharply beset with hunger. One
night, though, as they were reposing themselves in a bam
TOO TOW 451
in the neighbourhood of Kendal, they felt their stomachs
a-biting confoundedly, and were just on the point of
starting and catching the first thing of food kind they would
meet with, exclaiming, " they wha winna ficht for their meat,
winna ficht for their king ; " when the barn-door was flung
open, and a large party of people entered, who instantly
struck up lights, and loaded a long table they brought in
with various viands of luscious dainties, the " imry " of which
went up the noses of the red-coated lads like electricity.
This was a religious sect, somewhat of the epicurean order,
who mingled eating, drinking, and other good cheer with
their holy concerns. The lads lay in the straw as quiet as
mice in a mill, and observed their movements ; one of the
club got on his legs, and harangued at no small rate, with
a loud voice, rounding his sentences always with these words,
" When the archangel shall sound the last and awful trum-
pet : " our soldier, hearing this, the singer of them muttered
to his comrade, the trumpeter, " gie them a toot man, Tam,
whan he says that again." Tam agreed, and just as the
preacher was concluding one of his long breaths as before,
the trumpeter sounded one of his marches, in its highest key,
when out of the house rolled the congregation, in the utmost
disorder, leaving behind them the whole of the un tasted feast
to the famished soldiers, who leaped from the straw, welcom-
ing the same in the most gracious manner. And after they
had bounded their sides for once with the fat of the land, they
crammed full their knapsacks, and went whistling away,
rejoicing, "Blue Bonnets owre the Border;" nor forgetting,
for many a long day afterwards, the good turn of the
tootin-horn.
TosHOCH — A comfortable looking young person, from iosh^
happy.
ToviE — The same with tozie^ warm and comfortable ; blowzie-
looking, with drinking warm drink.
452 TOW - TRO
TowK — A bustle, a set-to. I had an unco toiok wi' a de'ils bairn ;
taivk^ a take up in ladies* clothing ; taialie, a toll-keeper.
TowTS — The same with hawts; taotlie^ unsteady ; toothfii e
drink, a quantity of drink for the drinking.
Trackpot — The teapot; sometimes trackte, a disrespectful
name for the teapot
Tradwuddies — The pieces of linked iron which are fixed to
harrows, and with which they are drawn.
Trae — Stubborn ; a boy who is trae to learn, is stifT to leam,
and will teach himself; the majority of mankind are the
better to be taught; but there are others who cannot be
taught, and some who learn of themselves.
Traik — To decay ; to look traiket, to look in a consumptive
state. Trailie, one who trails about in shabby clothes.
Trailoch^ the same, also trallop.
Trance — A passage, an entrance, an area, &c.
Traxtles — Bits of broken iron ; odd things of hardware about
a farm-house, same with trantlums ; there are generally haia
or holes about, where broken harse-shoon^ iron nttSy aM
spikes, and clicks be thrown ; these are termed trantU-bolcs.
Trapp — To trip, to catch another reading wrong.
Travish — To carry after a trailing manner.
Trogg — Old clothes ; troggas, persons who gather old clothes,
Gal lo vidian Jeu^s, It is somewhat strange there are none
of the children of Israel crying ^^ Auld doe / doe !^ through
any town in Britain but London.
Trolliebags — The inwards of animals.
Trone — A trowle, a masonic instrument ; tronnie, a boy who
plays the truant
Trotter o* New Gallowa — Mr. Trotter, son of Dr.
Trotter, the famous muir doctor in his day, and bro-
ther of Miss Trotter, author of her worthy father's life
lately Mr. T. published some rustic Gallovidian tales,
the which I am very far from disliking, though I have
TRU TUS 453
heard them railed against ; they are homely, told in a half
poetic, half Ossianic strain, and contain contented feelings.
So &r as I think, Mr T. is a gentleman, whom the world's
cares sit lightly on, and I am glad to think so ; his little book
will be more relished sometime after this than it is at present.
Rusticity is of slow but steady growth ; as to his sister, I
hope she will not lay aside her pen ; wherever I be she may
rely on me, a steady, though unknown friend ; the book on
H^raldry^ I do not know how it may do, but success to
trade. There is some gentleman too, besides Mr. Trotter,
in the Moorlands, who publishes books, but without his
name. I believe that is Barber of Borgue ; what is he afraid
about ? Is it in the nature of Hillmen to shrink ? no, no.
There is no occasion, now-a-days, Mr. B. to skulk ; come
boldly forward, fool or no fool; this is not the season of
time to slumber in a comer and wait for pairoti^^ for
the days of patrons are over, and it is as well. " Let us
trust in our own strength ; " when a man lays his shoulder
to the work, he is seldom overcome ; then the glory of
buffeting the ocean of adversity, single-handed industry-
is before all interest, the very essence of independence.
The tales of his are tolerable, though, methinks, not just
so much as Mr. Trotter's ; the one has more fancy than the
other.
Trucker Y — The porcelain stuff attending the tea-table.
Truff — A turf; trumfy trump, at cards.
TuE — Fatigued ; tued^ fatigued out ; ttug^ to tug.
Turn the Wullcat — ^The art of grasping the bough
of a tree with the hands, and turning the body through
between it and the bough. Turze^ a truss.
TusKV — A person with large tusks or teeth. An old man
had lost all his teeth but one large one in the under
jaw ; had moreover been a gourmand all his life, and was
one day observed at a large dinner, mumbling and boiling
454 TWA UPP
away as fast as he was able, until a large bite or pellet of
half chewed beef stuck m his throat; firightfully his eyes
stood in his head ; one run behind and struck him a smart
blow between the shoulders, (the best way thought to be on
these choaking occasions), out bounded the beef; but alas ! a
thread of it had been wound round the solitary tusk, which
was the cause of it sticking in the gullet, and was also the
cause of dragging the long fang from a station it had graced
many years, to the secret smiles of the party.
TwAFAUL — Twofold; iwa hand crack, a familiar discourse
between two.
TwELLiE — A dispute, a tulzie; tweezers, hair curleis;
iweesty to twist
TwoLT — A coverlid for a bed.
Tysday — Tuesday.
u.
Ugg — To vomit; uggsonu, loathsome.
Uncoes — Things uncommon.
Underthoum — A little trick projected in secret, is said
to be done under thoum, Undcrfit peats, peat turf,
digged beneath the foot, not in the common way of
cutting them of a breest.
Upplan Showers — Moorland rains ; much more rain always
falls on the moors than in the dale; mountains attract
clouds, then their tops like daggers stab them, and down
foam the black torrents.
Upple — When the weather at any time has been wet, and
ceases to be so, we say it is uppled ; now this is from
upheld, or it is the same ; the sky is held up ; here do we
see lift, carry, and upple, all connected together, all
J
URE VEN 455
proceeding from one cause, the which I have already ex-
plained, in articles Lift and Carry,
Ure — A kind of coloured haze, which the sunbeams make
in the summer time, in passing through ; that moisture
which the sun exhales from the land and ocean ; the ap-
pearance is most obvious on the sea, and when very dry
weather, on the moors ; when such is seen, it is called the
dry ure: —
** The east was blae, dry ure bespread the hills,
** And gizzend hang on charnle pins, the mills."
Gall<nva yearly Report.
V.
Veem — A person is said to be in a veeniy when inspired looking,
when exalted in spirits ; this word, and vehement^ may pro-
bably be allied.
Venters — Any thing which the wind or tide drive in from
the ocean upon a shore ; they are termed so from " ven-
ture," because people have often to venture^ or risk their
lives in obtaining them ; for when a junk of shipwreck,
or other drift wood, gets into the surf of a rock-bound
shore, the rude " venterers " catch hold when the prey
comes within reach, and are dragged by the rebounding
waves into the deep, and so left to perish in the turbulent
brine. This is often the case; and those who are so un-
fortunate, never cause many tears to be shed by the living
for their sake, they are never lamented for ; as it was
a greedy and savage disposition which hurried them to
destruction, else they would never have taken such a
death-grasp of (very often) a poor prize. Persons living
by shores who happen to get rich, are always suspected
to have " made themselves up,'* by gaining rich venters^
such as trunks full of cash, pipes of wine, or casks of
brandy ; but this, when sounded to the bottom, is often not
456 VEN VEN
true, and that their weighty purses have been filled somt
other more honourable way. There are many who make a
practice indeed of ^^ tinning the shores^^ of the south of
Scotland : but where will we find one of these who is not
a poverty-struck looking creature? By a time perhaps, a
windiass-barr^ or a deal of some kind or other, may be
caught, but for once any thing is found, twenty times
nothing is got ; and they would find themselves and their
families much better off were they to stay at home and
look after more sure matters, though this advice will sel-
dom be taken. An old fellow who lived about the shore,
once said " that he wad rather rin roim the craigs, and
look out for something, wi' a north wun blawin, than stay
ahame wi' Mail the wife ; " his luck indeed might have
been a little " snell wi' the tongue," as some others are ;
yet, had he run the shore less, and been thronger some
other way, he would, maybe, have met with a fuller hut
than he once had, and a quieter spouse — " ateen." But
what signifies all the trade of i^enterSy which goes on
about the south shores of Scotland, compared to that
of other places, and chiefly the west of Ireland ? There
the gulf stream disgorges what it takes into its maw in
its retrograde range athwart the broad Atlantia And there,
as the darling poet Falconer says — " Hell hounds prowl
along the shore." No savages on earth are worse than
these. No New Zealanders, nor Africans, are so bloody
and base. When a ship in distress is driven about that in-
fernal strand, as many are, it is not the bark the sailors try
to save, but their lives, and often are they stripped naked,
and inhumanly murdered by these detestable wretches
O ! Erin, I weep for this, of thee. O ! rulers, why are
ye thus blind? Plant on these inhospitable shores, a
power to protect our brave seamen, the guards of our
liberties, and the foundation of our nation's riches and
honour.
■■H
VIR VOU 457
ViRGUS — Some fancied liquid, considered to be the sourest of
any ; " it's as sour as virgus^^ this is the phrase of com-
parison ; what this virgus may be I do not see, unless it be
sour vinegar.
Man, without a wife,
Is only half a man.
And wanting half the joys of life.
Which Providence did plan.
A pity there's for maidens grey.
But none for bachelors at all,
For why, the moving cause are they,
So should not let the others fall.
That heart so cold's the frosty fell.
With feelings all like virgus sour.
Will only thaw away in hell.
And be alive to demons' power.
VfTSfs by the Wtiy.
Awa wi' a' your German P'b/w,
Your flashie, gabbie, Frenchie Mofts,
Your lazy, inrgus Spanish Dons,
Ihey're no for me ;
Give me my Scotia's darling sons,
Sae kind and free.
O ! but I loe their hamely tweils,
Their auld sweet sangs, and foursome reels,
Their heathery hills, their glens and beils,
Sae snug and warm ;
Rare honest, independent chiels,
Wha dread nae harm.
Vei'ses by chance,
VizziE Drap — The little mark stuck up at the mouth of a
gun-barrel to guide the sportsman's view. "To take a
vizzUy^ to take a steady aim ; some raw hands, when vizzying
first at the nail in the hulVs eye of the target \i'\\\i loaded ball,
feel dooms queer. Poet Main^ in the Sillar Gun^ catches at
this, and makes a good deal of it. One of those who were
shootings he tells us, was so afraid, that he misbehaved ; an
expressive term.
VouTS — Vaults ; burial places of the rich — " where those
above the vulgar bom do rot in state;" also any arched
roof place under ground. One of these, at the auld Abbey
of GUnlucey contains the famous library of Michael Scott,
458 VOU VOW
the Warlock, Here are thousands of old witck softgs and
incantations, books of the Black Art and A^ecromancy, Phi-
losophy of the Daftly Satan's Almanacks^ the I*ire Spangs of
FaustuSy the Soothsayer's Creedy the Witch Chronicle^ and the
Black Clucts wyme laid opetiy with many more valuable
volumes. None but priests ab ove four-score are admitted
entrance to this sacred archive ; and if they take down a
volume from one side of the library and set it on the other,
when they return, it is found brought back to its place
planted exactly on its own ^kelf Moreover, when they find
a book they would wish to take home with them, and peruse
quietly by the fire side, if it is put in the pocket, or under
the oxtery when they get back to the Manse the book is
vanished ; the invisible librarian, like those impudent ones
in the Edinburgh College Library, will allow no book of
worth to be read in privatCy not for any deposit. A priest
went once to it, as some go to that of the British Afuseum,
with the intention to copyy alias cabbage ; and after he had
spent a whole day noting down some of the dark mystics of
Masonry y he hied him home, called the wife to read her the
treaty but alas ! when he opened the copy, there lay the
paper as 7vhite as if pen had never been laid on it, which
much enraged the reverend Cotuan,
VowL — People playing at cards have their terms ; and this
vowl is one of them. WTien one of the parties i)laying
gets nothing, not so much as a trick, then they are said to
be vowi'd — this and sutler' d are one ; and a zunvl is said
to be worth nim games. This is something like that saying,
or taylors skit — that it takes nineteen taylors, a bull-dog,
and tippeny brick, to make a man. The chief Galloway
games at cards are, Catch the Ten, or Catch Honours,
Lent for Beans, Brag and Pairs for Slaes, Beggar my
Neebour, Birkie, Ijn^e after Supper, and Wha to be mar-
ried first. These are the genuine rustic games ; but lately
Whist, Cribbage, and other genteel nonsense, hath been
WAD WAD 459
introduced To hear a party playing the auld harmless
favourite Catch the Ten, the word renunce often strikes the
ear, renounce, reject, &c.
Come deal the carts, spit on your thoum,
And fling us roon* a han ;
Their cutten Jock, and shuffled too,
Sax players are the plan.
Now, what's the cut ? The Jack, by jing ;
O, if they hae the Ten,
The game we lose, iho* in dirt^s hole
We be, as a* do ken;
Come, let na Johnie get the lead,
O trumf about they go;
'Twas shameless Tarn, ha sma' anes baith.
The 7Wf — the 7>w, no, no.
Now, Clubs they lead — the first time roun.
That's a renunce fu' clean ;
Down goes the Ten — 'twill run, 'twill run,
No, down on't sweeps the Queen.
Ten and eleven is twenty-one,
The Queen, anither twa ;
O ! there's the Ace — it gets the King ;
We're beat — we're vowVdt and a'.
Sang o* the Cartes.
w.
Wad — Would. Wad, wager. / ufaa a crown, I wager a
crown.
Waddings — Weddings. These ceremonies are not so largely
attended as in the days of yore \ auld wives tell me, that
the Spirit d Waddings is left the country ; now sic a thing
is slippet by in a prevet yfzy, and a body never gets the
thrappk watted owre them. Wadding-baws, money tossed
among mobs by wedding people. Wadding-braivs, dresses
for marriage ; the buying of these braws is a serious matter,
for this is the first time the young fowk appear in public
Wadding sarks, the bride, previous to marriage, makes
the bridegroom a shirt, these shirts are termed wadding
46o WAD WAD
sarks, A peasant once told me, "That he ance did
na intend to take Meg for a wife, but the cutty saw this, flew
to my neck, and measured the sark, and than I was obliged
to tak her." Waddings o* CrawSy laige flocks of rooks,
particularly when in " blackened train," they fly at eve to
" their repose."
** Kjiddler^ 2ififert and three castlekaws,
** Ay gie the music to a wadding o* craws.
Auld say,
Wadds and the Wears — One of the most celebrated amuse-
ments of the ingle-ring, I believe Mr. Cromek has touched
at it slightly in his Nithsdale and Galloway song ; yet ample
room is left for a description of it by me, without being
called a plagiarist To begin then, one in the ring speaks as
follows : —
** I hae been awa at the wadds and the wears
** These seven lang years ;
*' And's come hame a puir broken ploughman ;
** What will ye gie me to help me to my trade ?"
He may either say he's a " puir broken ploughman," or
any other trade ; but since he has chosen that trade, some of
the articles belonging to it must always be given or offered,
in order to recruit him. But the article he most wants he
privately tells one of the party, who is not allowed, of course,
to offer him any thing, as he knows the thing, which will
throw the offerer in a wadd^ and must be avoided as much as
possible — for to be in a wadd^ is a very serious matter, as
shall afterwards be explained. Now, the one on the left hand
of the poor ploughman, makes the first offer, by way of answer
to what above was said ; " I'll gie ye the coutler to help ye to
your trade." The ploughman answers, " I don't thank ye for
your coulter^ I hae ane already." Then another offers him
another article belonging to the ploughman's business, such as
the moolbred, but this also is refused ; another, perhaps, gives
the socky another the stilts, another the spattU^ another the
WAD WAD 461
ftaigs^ another the naig-graith^ and so on ; until one gives
the soam^ which was the article he most wanted ; and was
the thing secretly told to one, and is the thing that throws
the giver into a wadd^ out of which he is relieved in the fol-
lowing manner : —
The ploughman says to the one in the wadd^ " Whether
will ye hae three questions and two commands, or three
commands and two questions, to answer or gang on wi',
sae that ye may win out o* the waddV^ For the one so
fixed has always the choice which of these alternatives to
take. Suppose he takes the first, two commands and three
questions, then a specimen of these may run so : —
" I command ye to kiss the crook^^ says the ploughman,
which must be completely obeyed by the one in the wadd
— his naked lips must salute the sooty implement
Secondly, saith the ploughman, I command ye to stand up
in that neuk, and say —
" Here Stan I, as stiff's a stake,
** Wha 'ill kiss me for pity's sake?"
Which must also be done ; in a comer of the house must he
stand and repeat that couplet, till some tender-hearted lass
relieves him. Now for the questions, which are most deeply
laid, or so touching to him, that he finds much difficulty to
answer them.
Firstly, then, "Suppose you were in a bed with Maggie
Lo7vden and Jennie Logan^ your twa great sweet-hearts, what
ane o'm wad ye ding owre the bed-side, and what ane wad
ye turn to and clap and aiddleV^ He makes answer by
choosing Maggie Lowden, perhaps, to the great mirth of the
party.
Secondly, then, " Suppose ye were stanin stark naked on
the tap d Cairnhattie^ whether wad ye crie on Peggie Kirtle
or Nell d Killimingie to come wi' yer claise ?" He answers
again in a similar manner.
462 WAM WAR
lastly, then, " Suppose ye were in a boat wi' libbte Tait^
Mary KairnU^ Sallie Snadrap, and Kate d MtnnUivfj and it
was to coup wi' ye, what ane o'em wad ye sink f what ane
wad ye soom f wha wad ye bring to Ian' ? and wha wad ye
marry?" Then he answers again, to the fun of the com-
pany, perhaps in this way, " I wad sink Mary KairnUy soom
Tibbie Tait, bring Sallie Snadrap aneath my oxter to lan\
and marry sweet Kattie d Minnieive,
And so ends that bout at the wadds and the wears to give
place to Hey Willie Wine and How Willie Wine, or the
Dambrod and Legendary stories.
Wampuz — To make curvilinear dashes, like a large fish in the
water.
Wanter — A bachelor, for why, he wants a wife.
Wapp — To wrestle ; wapping^ wrestling.
Warble — ^A short thick worm, which lodges between the skin
and the fell of black cattle, not between the fell and the
flesh ; a little hole leads to them, and, like the W^est India
jceger, may be squeezed and picked out.
Warl o' wig-wag — This state of being, this world of sin and
shame, good and evil. Mark the following verses : —
ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF AN ACQUAINTANCE
IN THE WEST INDIES.
And has that fatal Indian clime,
My Willie, done for thee ;
Ere ihou arrived at thy prime,
Ere thou was twenty-three?
Detcrmin'd ay thou wast to chace
Shy fortune o'er the wave ;
But she has scorned thy frantic race.
And birth 'd thee in the grave.
Thy parents, too, the whims did nurse,
That thou would 'st soon return
With an o'crflowing, pond'rous purse.
But now they wretched mourn.
WAR WAS 463
That thou would'st purchase an estate
Of acres green and wide,
And been the chief of all the great
On some fair country side.
Ne'er thinking fate so soon would have
Condemned thee to die,
Scarce rich enough to have a grave,
A hole wherein to lie.
O, Willie, had'st thou stay'd at home,
On Scotia's darling land,
And plough'd thy father's fertile loam.
And sow'd it with thy hand :
Perhaps ye yet in life had been.
An honest happy swain.
And many a merry day have seen.
Or vaaxiy/ull of pain.
For every zone on earth belojtv
Is cramm'd with various ills.
And fell disorders deadly flow
Thro* all in pois'nous rills.
Warroching — Wallowing, struggling, like a creature lairing in
mud.
Warsh — Fresh tasted, requiring salt ; warsle, a wrestle.
Warts — Little wens, said to be eradicated by washing with
swine's blood, or straiking with a dead man's hand.
Waspet — A man is said to look waspit^ when he is got small
at the Tuazban o' the breeks, something like a wasp or
pishminnie, when he fills not his wast-coat well; as after
marriage, and such serious affairs.
Wassocks — A kind of turban the milkmaids carry their pails
or stoups on their head ; also a kind of bunch put on a
boring jumper^ to hinder the water required in boring from
leaping up into the quarriei^s eyes.
Wastcoat — Waistcoat, vest, &c It is said that a doctor once
told the wonderful Bums, that if he left not off taking
whisky, he would soon be in the dust, for that the coat of his
heart was brunt off with it already. " O," quoth the bard,
" let wastcoat and a' gang^ ay maun I prie the barley-bree."
Respecting Burns, when in Auld Reekie^ I visited yohnnie
Do7vi^s yill-Jwuse^ famous for being a haunt of the poet's.
464 WAS WAS
and for selling good broum stout; scarcely had I sat
down in the Coffin Room, before the following verses were
struck off. I am no poet, as my readers will see, though
I have been a rhymer from my first, and liketh by a
time to try it "What good can come from Galloway?**
saith Hogg^ the Etterick Shepherd, in his Quien's Wake.
Ay, his hardship damns all Galloway, because a Gallovidian,
a Mr, Morrison^ parodied him and his Wake in a
poem. Poor spite ! but to my work ; let that be good
or no, it matters little to me, as I prefer putting up with
injuries, rather than be " -<4 plague to them whdd be a plague
to Pie"
Verses which occurred to me in the queer tavern of
Johnnie Doun^s, a house much haunted by Bums, while
in Auld Reekie : —
So this is Johnnie Dowie's cabin,
Whare aft dear Scotia's bard got lab in.
And then sae witty wild did gab in,
lliat roun the table,
A' laughed to hear the mighty Rabin,
While they were able.
Nae won*er that wi' right gude will,
He aflen sat and drank his fill,
O* this delicious famous yill,
As pure as amber ;
For then up the Parnassian hill
'Twas nought to clamber.
I think 1 see him just sae now,
Afore me, mair than middling fu*
Keen dashing on and driving thro'
The inspired chiel ;
Astonishing his social crew,
Ay and the de'il.
Whiles praising up his Ayrshire lasses,
Descanting grand on whisky glasses.
Or damning country lairds for hashes,
And priests for fools ;
Or through the rural world he brashes.
Despising rules.
Whare bumies to the ocean row,
W^hare lambkins dance adown the how,
Whare silver shakles wag their pow.
Upon the brae ;
Such worthy things he rambles thro',
And mony mae.
WAT WAT 465
The charms o* Jean, the whims o' Molly,
The joys that men hae in their folly,
The hypocrite's sly grane sae holy.
He slyer touches ;
For what can stand roused melancholy
'S giant clutches.
O, was he in reality
Aside me now, how glad I'd be,
There's nane wad mair admire his glee,
And praise his powers ;
But ah ! alas ! denied to me
Are sic sweet hours.
His noble saul frae earth is fled.
Wild Genius sadly mourns him dead.
True Scotchmen may adorn his bed
In the kirk-yard ;
But wha can stem hearts that do bleed
For the great bard ?
I'll mourn his death while here below,
That death brought on by want and woe.
Ere his great strains did strongest flow,
Or fancy fly ;
Sae lofty as they mean'd to go.
Ere he should die.
For had his country been mair kind,
And no hae slumber'd owre him blind,
We wad hae seen the strongest mind
Displayed ere sung ;
Wull Shakespeare he'd na been behind
In pith o' tongue.
But as he is, there's few afore him.
The scowling critic maun adore him.
And every feeling man encore him,
Wi' glorious glee ;
And in Fame's glorious Temple store him,
Nae mair to dee.
Wat — Not dry.
Waterbrash — An eruption in the stomach, brought on by
drinking grog.
Waters — Rivers; in Galloway the chief are the Dee^ Heet^ Urr^
and Crte. Mine Address to the Dee, wrote in Auld Reekiey
runneth as follows, foolish enough : —
The Dee is king of all the streams,
That roll to Scotland's southern sea,
On it I had my youthful dreams,
Its baViks are ever dear to me.
2 G
466 WAT WAT
For there my parents do reside.
And worthy parents they have been.
To me, a rambler wild and wide.
With foolish whims and fancy keen.
The Nith, the Urr, the Fleet and Cree.
Are waters not to match with it.
No stately ship on them we see,
VoT navigation they're unfit.
A seventy-four the Dee might float.
Or any bark that scours the deep ;
But for the rest an oyster boat,
They scarcely off the mud can keep.
What bays and havens hath the Dee,
To shelter safe the manlv tar ;
In them he tells his tale with glee,
** Remote from where the billows jar."
Upon its banks what waving wood.
And fertile glades for ever green :
What salmons spouting in the flood.
And pellocks hunting them are seen.
Around what rural swains do live.
So honest, harmless, blythe, and free ;
With them what bonny lasses thrive,
For ever kind and dear to me.
Oh ! when I think about the Dee,
A thousand lovely scenes arise ;
I see the friends so sweet to me,
I feel the charm that never dies.
When death does gore my swarthy breast.
With his determined deadly dart,
Those charms will only sink to rest,
Yes, with the throbbing of my heart.
The rivers in the torrid zone,
Or those beneath the arctic sky.
Do set me in another tone.
From them that round my home do lie.
How different where the Niger flows.
Through Afric's burning dismal land ;
By it the yelling savage goes,
With poison'd arrows in his hand.
There tigers come their thirst to slake,
With other wild beasts of the wood ;
There's too the monstrous fanged snake.
And crocodile intent on blood.
WAT WEA 467
There grin'd the alligator*s jaws.
There tawny lions fight and growl,
There clatter tusks and darteth claws,
Terrific to the traveller's soul.
Not like the peaceful Dee, indeed.
Where silver fishes skip and play,
On whose sweet banks the hares do breed,
And hop about in open day.
No frosts congeal the happy stream.
No choaking snows its course retard,
No Rein-deer gallops there in team.
As on the Lapland waters hard.
In it the Walrus never snorts.
Nor Bears prowl for the harmless Seal ;
No Mallamuke there resorts,
Tho' whiles the Widgeon and the Teal.
The Dee contains no church of ice.
No mansion there appears so cold ;
Fantastic forms are very nice,
But I'd like better to behold
Kirkcudbright and its river fair.
With woody sweet St. Mary's Isle ;
O ! for pure Gallovidian air,
O I for to see her maidens smile.
Smoke on, old Reekie, justle on.
Ye swagging crowds with meilde pain,
Your humble servant leaves ye soon,
For his grand rural world again.
Wauchle — To walk after a fatigued manner: wauchling^
walking, yet almost exhausted.
Wauch Mill — A mill for thickening cloth.
Waucked — Matted, wrought thick.
Waucket-loof — A hand with the flesh hardened.
Waur — Worse.
Waur-time. — The spring season, for then the farmers waur^ or
lay out ; they then sow with the hope to reap.
Weathergaw — A very singular object seen in a cloudy
sky, when a certain kind of weather rules it. The rain-
bow and it seem to be of one nature, and to proceed
from the same cause. The beautiful colours in the wea-
thergaw^ however, are stronger defined, of a deeper hue
468 WEA WEE
than those of the rainbow ; the back ground of the wea-
thergaw^ as it were, is always a black cloud, and instead of
being the segment of a circle, is, so far as it appears, a
straight line. The whole seems to be the refraction of the
sun's rays, owing to their beaming on a column of water,
falling in the form of weighty rain, from one region of a
dense atmosphere to another. Thus this strange appear-
ance is termed by rustic Scottish naturalists the weatlurgaw,
or the gall of the weather ; and when the gall or gaw,
bursts, woe be to the tenants of the field, down come the
sumps, and wild foam the spates; however, it sometimes
indicates good weather, like the ark d the cluds^ from its
situation in the sky ; thus when the ark runs north and
south, the aflercome is not so much dreaded, as if it had
stretched between any other airts d the lift, and when the
weathergaw is seen in the east, its consequences by the
weatherwise are less dreaded, though east rains, when they
do fall, are the dreighest of any : —
**The weather's taking up now,
** For yonder is the weathergaw,
** How hionny in the east now,
** Now the colours fade awa ;
*' But turn your head tae south man,
'* Yonder it appears again,
** I>et*s lae the ng, and theak the stacks,
** Or down will fa' the plumping rain.
Harvest sang.
Wee — Small, little ; wee^ wee^ smaller than small : —
** I wuss I had a ww, wee house,
** A wegy wee cat, to catch a mouse,
** A 7£vr, wee cock, to craw fu' crouse,
•* And you to rule them a'."
Popular sang,
Weel — Well. Weel man, A common salutation ; weel-faured,
well-favoured, good-looking.
Wee Ross — One of the best known islands belonging to
Galloway ; it stands at the mouth of the Dee, and is
about two miles in circumference ; the Isle of Heston, in
WEE WEE 469
the Bay of Balcarry^ is about the same size, and swarms
with rabbits; there are none of these animals on the Wee
RosSj but there are plenty of rats, which burrow amongst the
rocks, and live on partonsy pirr-eggs, &c.; it is called the IVee
Ross, because the bold headland, termed the Big Ross, is
right beside it, and forms, from its height, a famous land-
mark for sailors ; between the two lands is a rock, termed
yanet Richardson, This was a poor woman who belonged
to Clauchendolly, and who went on to the rock at ebb-tide, to
gather 2ipowkfu* d mussels; while so employed the sea flowed
round the rock, unobserved by her — at length noticing it,
she " kilted up her coats, aboon the na'el," as the saying is,
plunged in, but the buldering ytdXtrs of the sound hurried her
off \itx feckless shanks, but she having difarkage d claise about
her, they keeped her aboon broe, until she was driven ashore
on the Milton Lands ; from such circumstance is the rock
named, and that name will likely remain as long as if it had
been given by Cook or Parry. On the Wee Ross stands
two land-marks, erected by the wisdom of Skipper Skellie ;
they point out to sailors the land^s lead, and the Deds
Channel I must not pass this worthy Skipper Skellie,
slightly; his honest and feeling mind has been exerted
in behalf of the sailors, a class of men, perhaps as much
respected as any on earth, and apparently for good cause.
Whatever the skipper sees he can do for them, that
he doth, even to hurting himself; his daring mind is
backed out by that of every wise man's, and all his plans
have originality and good in them; well may I term him
the Gallovidian marine engineer, for the same reason that
I term Gladstone that of the land. After his land marks
were built, a curious pod fancied he addressed them
thus : —
Some time ago when I was wont to cross,
The Solway Firth, and trade in coal and Hme,
Often I've found myself at no small loss.
To know the Dee in many a stormy time ;
470 WEE WEE
Deep rolling river always grand sublime,
From others stagnant, full of sludge and dross.
Which vomit round it in the sea their slime,-
'Twas then methought that from these jumbling gross,
Skelly should mark it yet upon the Little Ross.
So I vrith you, ye brothers square and high.
Have had my wish, I glory in your birth.
Stand unscar'd beneath the sulky sky.
Let growling surfs and surges give ye mirth.
Smile at Kirkcudbright, gaze across the Firth ;
The waves dash'd vessels from the tempests cry.
Do all the good ye can, remain while earth
Unsmelted will around her axle fly,
Tho' still remember, Skelly, who am L
Whene'er a sailor from the ofEn hails.
Your lofty lordships boldly answer he,
•* Come hither from the g^e, ye tar who sails,
'* Along the wild bosom of the wrathful sea,
** If for a shelter you incline to be,
" Within our arms is one which never fails,
" Through gurly hurricanes to form a lee,
•* Where pitching ceases, where no anchor trails,
•* Give Skelly*s orders then, when ocean rails."
Whoever can lie and snore upon the pillow,
And seamen weltring roimd in great distress.
Bawling for mercy, struggling with the billow.
Will surely ne'er behold the land of bliss ;
Contentment's lips thee'ill never, never kiss.
But will be scourg'd by some infernal fellow.
For such as these the devil cannot miss.
Oh, help the weather-beaten sailor, will ye.
Is ever the sincere wish of Skipper Skelly.
May commerce flutter up our lovely river.
And fright the grass from off the untrod street.
May spirit, sense, and worth, forsake us never.
Let who are foes shake hands, and friendly meet.
That pride and spleen evaporate complete.
Who brews the venom, may that venom's fever,
Retort upon themselves with furious heat ;
So we'll be look'd on borough bodies clever.
And I, an humble skipper, live for ever.
So now my land-marks^ hear my last advice.
Let times' fell tusks scarce ere your beauty tear.
Should distant ages disregard your price.
Shake, shiver not nor stand aghast with fear
When I must sink at last, through tear and wear,
Beneath the sod in death's cold arms of ice.
And my poor soul through foreign countries steer,
Be sure ay tell the worthy and the wise,
My simple efforts never to despise.
WEE WEE 471
Beside this isle is a tolerable place for ships to anchor in,
when they come from off the sea, at a wTong time of the
tide, and must wait for water flowing of depth, to swim them
up the river. However, if the storm be a hurricane, the
shelter is not so great, and it requires a ship with the best
holding tackle to ride secure. About two years ago, five
ships were torn from their moorings there by an awful gale,
and dashed to pieces on the Bar ; one of these was com-
manded by a young man belonging to Cumberland, of the
best disposition and manners ; his loss was so deeply
lamented both in England and Scotland, that the following
true song was produced on the subject : —
CAPTAIN ORMONBY.
Sweet maidens fair in Cumberland, what griefs have I to tell.
The dear young Captain Ormonby, who loved ye all so well,
Is overwhelmed with the storm, is sunk beneath the wave,
In the wild deep, there he doth sleep, there is his watery grave.
He left your shores for Dublin-bay with a deep-laden bark,
The day was fine, the wind was fair, and sweetly sang the lark.
But ere the sun stood north and south, the sky was all o'ercast.
And by Blackcoomb^ with awful boom, came roaring on the blast.
The surges o'er the head-lands rose, and buried every mool.
The Isle of Man they seem'd to sink, and break out o'er Barool ;
What ship could stand such billows vast, she must run for a lee,
With naked masts, before the blasts, forlorn she on must flee ?
So on did steer young Ormonby before the furious wind.
The tide being out along the shores, no harbour could he find ;
The little Ross no shelter was, the anchors would not hold.
So our noble tar, upon the Bar, among the foam was roll'd.
Up high his brig was heaved whiles by the tremendous sea.
Then down again, with thundering sound, upon the sands of Dee ;
But soon she stove, and soon she sunk, the sailors stood aghast,
Then, for the live did climb and strive to save't upon the mast.
As on the main-top they did cling, and gazing all around,
Four other ships, besides themselves, were on the stormy ground ;
** What shall we do ? " a sailor cried, *' lo, yonder's one upset,
** Altho' dry land be near at hand, to it we'll never get."
** The tide will flow by six o'clock (the captain then did say),
** And down will fall our only hope, this mast here will give way ;
** There's not a chance that we'll be saved, no, not a chance for one,
•* No boat can live, none help can give, we're drowned every man."
472 WEH WHA
*' O ! let us, since we see our fate, to the Almi^y pray,
** Implore him for to save our souls, and not cast them away ;
•* For soon my brother sufferers dear before him they will be,
" For death doth ride upon the tide, this awful night we
But scarcely had good Ormonby sooth'd his desponding crew.
When down the mast with crashing fell, the surges o'er them flew ;
Their shrieks were stifled with the storm, the waters mad did roar.
And dash'd them down, to gasp and drown, and never to rise more.
Poor Bill, e'er this an hardy tar, who had sail'd many a
A hunting whales among the ice, and slaves by hot Goree ;
Reach'd the foremast with trouble great, and saw the horrid fate
Which did befal his mess-mates all, for him but to relate.
And while poor Bill did tell the tale, with sorrow he did weep,
" My kind young captain," he did cry, ** is buried in the deep ;
** 'Tis thirty years now, since a boy, I first did sail the sea,
** And I've ne'er had, such a good lad, a master over me."
Lament then for this worthy youth all who have hearts can feel.
His sweetheart's breast is wounded deep, we fear 'twill never heal;
On Whitehaven Quay she parted that mom with her true love.
No more to see, nor with him be, till she's in Heaven above.
Well may'st thou moan, thou Ocean now, upon the Milton sand.
For Ormonby thou hast devoured — what can thy wrath withstand ?
The tall black rocks around thy shores, even totter with thy rage.
See how then can, the art of man, with thee in war engage ?
O ! sing this song, my sailors all, when you're in moumfol mood.
And think on the distresses great your brethren whiles have stood ;
Be still prepared to meet the storm, be still prepared to drown.
So then will ye, like Ormonby, gain an eternal crown.
Wehaw ! — A cry which displeases horses. Boys are frequently
seen about the clauchans running after atdd naigSy and ci}'-
ing wehaw I and see how the old horses scool^ hang their
lugs^ and would kick were they able,
Whailing — To get a lashing with a rop^s end. This comes
from the name of a rope called a whakMne^ used in fishing
for whales.
Whang — Any thing of a long supple nature. A whang d
cheese^ as much cheese as can wag, A whang o* tobaccoy
7vhangs for steekers to shoon, &c., are all of the same order.
Whang, however, is also a blow, or ratherly a lash with a
whip ; this blow is sometimes called whack.
Whauky — Whisky ; the same with Aqua,
WHA WHU 473
Whaup — Bird curlew ; also a twist, as in a rope. Thus,
whaup V thi rape, a doubling, a back-spangy a quirk, to
deceive. Wheeple, to whistle like a whaup,
Wheesht — An order for silence. Hand your wheesht, be silent.
Wheezan — ^The noise carriage-wheels make, when moving
fast.
Whigg — Sour cream, a pleasant acid to the taste.
Whihe — The sound of an adder ; her fuffing noise, when
angered.
Whillie Billou — A noisy commotion, as when the fox
is up, started for chace. French, Whirlie Breelow, for
the same.
White — To pare with a knife ; also, to fleetch, to flatter for
favour. An auld whitie, a flatterer ; the same with white-
up,
m
White Hawse — ^A favourite pudding, that which conducts the
food to the stomach with sheep.
Whittering — Running about in a strange simple manner.
The way a modest lover haunts his mistress ; also, any thing
of weak growth is a whitter,
Whommled — Overturned. "To be whommled beneath a
bushel," to be covered by a bushel ; " to be whommled by a
wave," to be whelmed in the deep.
Whoorls — Circular back for spindles —
'* By cauk and keel we'll win our breed,
** Ajid whoorles for spinnles in time o' need."
Gaberlunzie Man,
Whudding — Telling lies ; also to run like a hare. We say,
" See to bawdrons, how he whudds awa up the lee."
Whudder, a curious kind of noise ; we say, " a hare starts
from her den wi' a whudder ," also, the wind, in a cold night,
is said to whuddcry Association must partly explain this
term, bare words cannot do it.
474 WHU WHU
Whufft — ^Whift He whufft out the candle; he suddenly
blew out the candle.
Whult — A blow received from a fall, or the noise attending
such a fall. He gat an unco whult from falling, and he fell
with an unco whuU ; both these are said : also whult, any
thing larger than expected ; a large potatoe, like a loltidoU, is
termed a whulter. Loltidoll is the largest species of potatoe
in the three kingdoms, the British yam ; Irishmen say only
two grow to a stalk, and any one of these is as big as a
child's head sixteen years ould. Our Pinkies, Meuk-a-ma-riches,
Benefits, Blue-nurgs, &*€., are trifles to these.
Whullilow — The same with Whillie-billau,
Whumgees — Vexatious whisperings, trivial tricks in truth-
telling, as it were. Whaups in the rape, and whumgees, are
not widely different Whumper, to whimper ; to whunge, to
whinge, to fret
Whunce — A heavy blow, or the noise of such a blow, as when
two channle-stones strike one another.
Whunner — A thundering sound, or the blow which causes
such a sound,
Whuns — Whins ; whun-stanes, whin-stones ; whun blooms, the
yellow blooms of the whin. Whins, it is said, were intro-
duced into this country from France ; that the cat-whun
is the Scotch-whun, the other the French-whun, Now, the
truth is, any bad thing, as whins are, no nation wll
own, so we give them to the French. The French give
them again to other nations ; so, what belongs to all the
world, and what the world detests, no nation in the world
will own, and vice versa.
Whups — Whips ; ivhupperin, a whipper-in amongst fox-
hunters ; a loaded whup, a whip laden in the shaft with
lead ; whup, also to run ; whup awa, run along. Some
WHU WHU 475
may think that I give not all the strange words in use in the
south of Scotland ; this is true ; but I give all those which
none have noticed before me, at least the greater part I
once intended to give them all, but I found it would swell
my book too much; those who wish to see the rest, may
consult Jamieson's excellent Dictionary. And one of my
motives for writing this book was to aid our Scottish Diction-
ary as much towards perfection as possible.
Whurlie-Birlie — ^Any thing which whirleth round ; children
have little toys they spin, so termed. There is nothing
so hard to make the peasantry of Scotland believe, as
the truths of Astronomy ; some consider the matter deeply,
and instantly assent to them ; but the majority are ratherly
inclined to laugh at the glorious discoveries of a Pytha-
goras, a Copernicus, a Kepler, and a Newton. They
cannot think that this earth turns round on its axis, at all ;
and far less that it wheels round the sun. While reasoning
this matter with one of them one day, he gave out the
following fancies, which I thus tagged together in rhyme —
Quoth Dalditt thou's a dooms queer cheel,
Faith thou's grown kidgie wi' the de'il,
To tell me that this yirth doth wheel,
Just like a whurlie-birlu.
Here hae I lived this thratty year,
And never faun I it to steer,
Goth, thou's a wrang man I cud sweer.
It's no a wkurlU'birlie.
At this the Astronomer did smile.
Faith, took a laugh at Daldie's style.
He was na grave a gye wee while.
About the whurlU-birlie.
But Daldie reasoned still awa,
He cudna swallie this ava.
How he, his shiel, his wife and a'
Stack on the whurlie-birlie.
While heels owre gowdie every day,
It whomel'd on the orbit way.
And sae continued to play,
The meikle whurlie-birlie.
476 WHU WHU
About some forces thou dis jaw,
I kenna how they act ava,
Centripecdel, Centrifuga',
To trim the whurlie-HrlU.
That famous English Isaac m£ui«
Thou say*st did maist the hale ware plan.
And saw exactly how it ran,
The meikle wkuriu-birlU.
But him nor you can hardly change
What Daldie thinks wi* ought sae strange.
My mind it may be canna range.
And see*t a whuHU-birlU.
\jt\, it be, tho^ whate'er it is,
Frae Daldie tak na au^ht amiss.
There's mony a goaf wi' it maun whizz,
Gif it's a whuriu-hirii^,
Tse gie't a thought — ay, shake my brain.
And see if aught it dodi contain,
O, but wi' scholar-craft my ain.
To see this whurlu-birlie.
But hech ! am unco' doaf i'e horn,
A shauler eow was never bom,
I sleep ate en and start i'e mom.
Upon this whurlU-birlic.
O, for the fancy that could streek.
And tow*r aboon the cluds, like reek.
Than I cud crack wi' you a week.
About this whurlU-birlU,
There is another poem in my wallet respecting the pea-
santry, termed Auld Wullie BirlU^ and as these poems illus-
trate the manners of the country people better than prose
hints, I feel inclined to give it ; and be it understood, when
I name not the author of any piece, I want my readers to
guess that, or let it alone, just as they feel : —
Auld Willie Birlie is ane fiel' herd.
And tharty years he has herded Clinkanco',
His claes are dufHe, something grey his beard,
And healthfu' habits make him fail but slow.
He trods about wi' his bit halflin trot,
Ane han' bears cloupicy tither his coat-tail^
What skill has he about a nurriWd stoti.
And croitoch'd cloots the body soon can hail.
Thro' a* the day he is amang the flocks,
Whiles wi' the cuddochs, whiles artiang the sheep,
Unless his cur smells Reynard 'mang the rocks.
Than owrc the hags and noils does Willie leap.
WHU WHU 477
And sometimes gets Tod Ix)wrie by the tail,
Than Willie Birlie is ane happy man,
Wi' mighty glee he hameward him doth trail.
Tells how he tous*d him, how Yvt formed his plan.
Baith young and auld like Willie Birlie weel,
Wi* him few nowt or sheep do ever traik.
And than for him they're a' sae quiet, puir chiel.
He claws their rumps, their cheeks he'll clap and straik.
Few megrams ever enter Willie's head.
He likes his auld wife Meg^ and she likes him.
Their bairns are a' grown up whilk they did breed.
In England some o'm's gane, the pack to trim.
And some o'm ploughs ahame, and daughter Nell
Is married to ane honest plodding chiel.
And she lues him^ as well's she lues herself
Sae Willie Birlie's family's unco weel.
Quietly has Willie lived, and sae he'll dee,
He never ken'd what were the ills of life,
He's no a melancholy wretch like me,
Wi' mankind he had never ony strife.
He never felt the flashing passions mad.
The burning brains which nothing can assuage,
The sorrowing soul that loveth to t^ sad.
And frets for ay, like burdie in a cage.
Upon ilk sunny sabbath afternoon.
He reads his Bible on the green brae side,
And thinks about the joys in heaven aboon.
And sacraments aroun' the countra wide.
The Scriptures Willie never doubt do lee.
Believes ae passage true, anither no,
Na, na, a wiser, better man is he,
O were all mankind like him here below !
Nae growling then wad he 'bout this and that,
Nae frothy, noisy, vain, translucent fools,
The shoals o' folk cilive here, weel I wat,
Wad be as quiet as them amang the mools.
O, Willie Birlie, was I but like thee.
Wad mither nature own me for a child ?
O could I ramble with a saul as free
' As you amang the hills and rocks sae wild.
Sink to my grave like thee by calm degrees,
Hae sic grand hopes beyond that dark abode.
Resign myself to fate's most stem decrees.
And live in peace with all mankind and God.
Whush-show — A call made by sportsmen to start game ;
they will rummage the haunts^ and call whush-shoWy when
478 WHU WHU
wood-cocks are a seeking for. Whur-cocks is the call, when
up flutter the birds; whiles poachers blatter at them, and
the shot-lead is heard rattling on the trees. Whush also
means a noise or fame ; thus a marriage makes a whush for
a while on a kintra side^ and any other great thing. When
people marry, and when they die, the character is sounded
Whushers and whusheringSy mean whispers and whisper-
ings. This book of mine may or may not make a whush for
a little ; every dog has his day ; even Haggart the murderer
had his : —
VERSES EXTEMPORE, AFTER READING THE LIFE
OF HAGGART.
Light-fingered Davie ve hae been,
A curious, clever chiel,
But hoch-anee, its easy seen,
Ye hae been a clever de'iL
Thy passions mad and genius bright.
Did keep thee ay fii' thrang ;
Thou felt the pith o' inward might.
But let that might gae wrang.
Auld Scotland now has cause to brag,
Gif she be called upon.
That she has bred as sly a wag,
As e'er was Barrington.
I wat ye war a crafty boy.
And cud millvader fine,
And plump a fallow's benjie-cloyy
'Twas there where ye did shine.
The poet too, I do not doubt,
His mystic ye did ken.
Ye were like Savage^ near about.
And he ca'd famous Ben.
For baith o' thae, against the will.
In some stranee frolic wild.
By some queer blow a man did kill.
Yet were not much revilM.
And Shakspeare, too, lap owre some dykes,
A graiping Lucy's dcer^
Big bards are a big blackguard tykes.
Nor Bums nor me are clear.
Unless the conscience stangs awa.
Our feelings are a* sham,
Our genius will make nought ava.
But sangs no worth a damn.
WHU WIL 479
Sae Davie, I lament your fate,
Ye might been — wha can tell ?
I hope ye may be the right gate,
And thy buik brunt in hell.
Whusky pig — The jar which holds the whisky ; whiskied, a
person is said to be so when a little tipsy.
Whutstane — A whetstone ; whutting d drink, a little spirits
which whet the wits ; whuttling, a whispering, a quickening,
&c.; whuttle, also a whetstone.
Whyripe — To mourn, to torment with mourning; thus one
always railing against this world whyripes, frets, &c; a wife
of this temper is past enduring : I know some who are ever
whyriping on their poor devils of husbands. IVhyriping
and wyringing are one.
WicKERTON — An old cross-grained b of a wife ; one of the
d^iPs daughters by the third wife.
Wild Scots o' Gallowa — There is now no knowing, I
believe, when this term was first applied to our ancestors,
nor can the reasons be properly stated why they became
honoured with such a title, for an honour of the highest
nature it must have been. The word " wild," in my opinion,
has something grander about it than either " brave," or
" noble." Indeed, it may be said to swallow up every ap-
pellation that could possibly be given to a rare warlike race ;
and when it was bestowed on our forefathers tlirough a long
and eventful period of the Scottish history — ^when every
Scotchman of pith was a bowman, a sword-player, skilled in
wielding the battle axe, and quarter-staff — the epithet truly
assumes a lofty character. Doubtless many a Scotchman in
those ancient days, who was no Gallo\n[dian, enlisted himself
under the banner of our " wild men," merely to get amongst
glorious " untame " companions ; the same as now-a-days
with soldiers of " spunk," they would rather be privates in
the " Forty-Twa," or " Auld Highlan' Watch," than officers
in small fameless regiments.
48o WIL WIL
The situation of Galloway laid it open in these days to
war in every quarter ; the Southrons infested them by sea
and land ; and when domestic broils broke out any where
in Scotland (things by no means imfrequent), the Gallori-
dians had a share in the fray. Such work then, as fighting,
beating, and plundering foes, they doubtless well understood,
and much better, it seems, than any other tribe in Scotland,
as ancient books affirm ; and Lord Kaims, in his writings on
Scotland, says, '' That in all the great battles the Scotch had
with the English, the Galiwegians led the van, led the brave
Caledonians on to victory ; they were a race of warriors, had
no fear either of hunger or death, and were called The Hlld
Scots d Galloway'^ Just as the Highlanders now;-a-days
do, heading the British troops, and driving the enemy before
the point of the bayonet A writer sometime ago in the
public prints, made a long harangue against '^ The IVUi
Scots d Galloway y^ and seemed to have a hide ** yeucking**
for some Gallovidian to start and " claVt " with a bunch of
" breers ; " but no one minded him ; they let him fall asleep
with the " lees " in his " gizzeron." I have seen nothing
but two verses of poetry wrote against him, which are
not so bad —
"THE WILD SCOTS O' GALLOWAY."
Wha's this, wha scowling shaws his tusks,
At our famous auld forefathers ?
We doubt he is a foolish gow,
And fond o* talking blethers.
For wha but a gomerall
Wad grasp a rung, and whap and blaw
At our worthy frien s o' auld lang syne,
The Wild Scots o» Gallowa ?
For tho* their pantries were na pang*d,
Nor their kytes weel lin'd wi belly timmer,
What de'il cared they 'bout Fortune's gifts,
They damn'd the hizzy for a limmer ?
Tame were the ither Scots to them,
The Southron loons they lo'ed to claw,
Sae patriots ever will revere
The Wild Scots o' Gallowa.
WIS VVRA 481
Wish IE-WASH IE — Small drink ; ale without foam ; whisky
without hells,
Wizzen'd — Wilted, shrunk ; wallmued, wasted ; from the
German weest, TVize, to guide, to direct JVizzeUy or
wyzeron^ the throat; for food is laizeddown it to the stomach.
Woo — Wool; 7uoo-cards, carders for wool; woo-creels^ wicker
baskets for holding wool, spheroidal formed, like spoon-creels :
woo-teazing^ refining wool.
WoucH — The same with bouch^ a dog's bark.
** I had a wee dog and he wouche<l at the moon,
** If my sang be na lang it's sooner dune."
An Id say.
The which is frequently said by those unwilling to sing ; they
plead hoarseness, " or ill wi* the caul ;" a gude singer maun
ay htfletclied wi' to sing ; and whiles, in lieu of the above, is
said —
** Sing, sing, what shall I sing?
** The cat ran away with my apron string."
Wow — To wave ; he iLmtfd wi' his hat — 7vhan I woiu stanfast;
there is an association starts with this phrase, which I am at
a loss to explain ; probably brother yamcs can do it.
Wrack-boxes — Little oval-formed boxes, full of air, found
made of and adhering to vegetable sea-weed ; what a
crackling noise they hold when exploding in a kelp-kill^ on
Halloween night ! Country lads living by shores are sure to
be provided with a stock of these boxes ; and when lovers
are a burning in the greeshoch, in the shape of nuts, some
of these boxes are secretly introduced beneath a red peaty
which in time explode, to the grievous astonishment whiles
of the anxious lookers-on, who are not let into all the
mysteries, and who believe the tremendous reports to
proceed from the nitSy which at once leads to the conclusion,
that an awful eniption will take or has taken place between
the sweethearts.
2 H
482 WRA WRA
Wraiths — Apparitions of a certain kind. Suppose a per-
son in London saw his dearest friend among the crowd,
whom he was sure was living with his wife and family at
the Clauchan d Davie, in Galloway, at that same moment,
then might that person in the metropolis say he had seen a
wraith. Wraiths are therefore the shadows of persons
alive; they differ from ghosts, which are the shadows of
persons dead. But both wraiths and ghosts are sus-
j)ected to have more concerning them than a mere sha-
dow. A ghost is always thought to appear for vengeance-
sake, being generally these of some >*Tonged or murdered
persons. Wraiths, on the other hand, appear as the har-
bingers of death, and sometimes they appear in the like-
ness of the person about to die, to the eye ; at other
times they do not appear to the sight at all, but are heard
making various noises. So says superstition about these
beings. For my own part, I have neither seen a ghost
nor a wraith as yet, nor heard or seen anything super-
natural, that I could not in some way or other account
for ; but all men are not so. I have in my Legendary
Wallet, so frequently spoken of, scores of tales and stories
about these and all other creatures of the same stamp,
which have been often both seen and heard, and which I
would now write down, did I not consider them as too
tedious for a work of this description ; for, although I be not
a great believer in these things, I have my doubts about
me, which have made me anxious, from the cradle till now,
to preserve and horde up the smallest trifle respecting
anything of the kind. To speak a little farther, how-
ever, a young man with whom I am intimately acquainted,
and who is never known to tell a lie, neither to me nor any
other person ; neither was he a believer in wraiths, nor
any such beings until the other day there. And here is
the cause he gives for the alteration taking place in his
belief. — "Last vacans (quoth he), I gaed awa to my uncle's
WRA WRA 483
or rather my grandfather's, to stap a-week or twa, and
play myself amang the Moorhills ; neive trouts, and learn
twar or three tunes on the flute ; weel, I hadna been there
ony time aworth, till I saw as queer a thing as ought ever
I saw, or may see. Ajit out at the house-en ae morn-
ing, about aught o'clock, and a bonny harrest morning it
was; weel ye see, am making a bit gnnwan to mysell
to tak down wi' me to a deep pool that was i' the bum, fu'
o' trouts, and this I was gaun to do after breakfast time,
for as yet I hadna gat my sowens ; weel ye see, Tm tying
on my grin wi' a bit o' wax'd thread, whan by the house-
en comes my auld granfather wi' his clicked staff, that
he ay had wi' him in ae han, and in the tither his auld loofie
o' a mitten, which he hadna as yet drawn on. He cam
close by me, and gaed a kinn o' a luik at what I was doing,
then wised himsell awa alang the hip o'e hill, to look how
the nowt did, and twa young foals, as was his usual wont.
Weel, awa he gaed; I was sae thrang when he gaed by
that I never spak to him, neither did he to me, and I
began to think about this whan I was mair at laisure, and
gaed a glent the road he tuik, just to see like how the auld
body was coming on, for he was on the borders o' four
score, yet a fearie fell auld carle, and as kine a body as
ever I saw ; sae I gaed a glent, as I was saying, alang by
the scarrow o'e hill, and did see him winglan awa by the
back-side o' the auld saugh Lochan. And in course o*
time, maybe no ten minutes after, I stepped my waes in
to see gin I could get a leap or twa o' sowens, and get
aff to the trouts ; whan wha think ye's just sitting on the
sattle-stane at the ingle-cheek taking a blaw o* the pipe —
but auld granfather — * Lord preserve me,' said I, and said
na mair ; I glowr*d about me awsomly. * What's wrang
wi' the boy ? ' (quoth my auntie) ; * come out (quo' I), and I'll
tell ye,' which she did. We gaed up the hill a bit, to be
sure, as she said, o* the thing I had seen ; we saw nought
484 WRA WRA
ava, came back again in an unco way. That vara night
granfather grew ill, which was on a Saturday teen, and
he was dead, [)uir body, or sax o'clock on Monday moni-
ing." The most of the tales I have, are from some
who heard them at second hand, but the tale I have
now told, was told me, as I have said, from the person
who saw the MTaith himself, and one whom I believe was
telling the truth as nearly as any p>erson I ever knew.
Another man however, whom I give equal credit to, told
me the following : — " That afore he was married, there was
nae body lived wi' him i'the house ava, but twa men wha
were his labourers, and helped him to work the farm ;
ae night thae t^-a cheels gaed awa a sproaging amang the
lassies, and I sat up for their hame-coming till after ten
o'clock ; after that I gaed awa to my bed, for there were
nae sines o' their coming ; but whan I was stripped, and
lay in my auld creevie, de'il a wink I coud sleep \ I kentna
what was wrang wi' me either, sae I'm lying dovering,
that's neither sleeping nor waking, but atween the twa ;
when the door gaed the awsomest brange I ever heard, as
if somebody had struck it wi' a sledge-hammer ; than 1
thought it was catched and shooken, as it were, a* to
fliners. By this time I was on my feet, and making for't
full drive, wi' an auld swoople in my neive, whan I cam
till't. The door that I thought was a' in smash, is hingin
on its hinges, the same way as when I gaed lie. I open'd
it mair than ance, glowr'd at it wi' the light o' the moon,
and gaed out into the close, the length o' the S7aine-t rough,
but nought saw I, everything was quiet but my heart, I
thought it wad hae jumped clean out o' my brisket ; lord !
what wallops it gaed. In I cam again, pat on my claise,
and waited for my men wi' the greatest anxiety. Pat
about half an ounce o' tobacco in my mouth at ance, sat
down by the fire and whistled on the dogs about me.
While sae sitting, the door gets anither brange, up I started.
WRA WRA 485
but saw nothing again which I might say was the cause,
and what astonished me as meikle as ought, the collies
never gaed a single yelp, which, if they had heard the
noise, or gin ony human had been about, wi' their growls
and bouchs wad hae been like to bring down the house.
1 near gaed demented now, and whan the men cam hame
about an hour after, they faun' me reeling about like a
madman. Ane o* the bound men ay lay wi' me in my
bed after that until I gat the wife. Mony a week after 1
thought about the noise o* the door, whan ae Sunday eve,
about three months after, am reading a bit o' the Bible, whan
a bit neebour boy cam ben wi' a letter, the seal being black
startled me : soon I open it, and what was in it but the
doolfu' account o' my brither's death, i'that terrible Ja-
maica Island. He had just de'ed a day or twa after I had
heard- the unco rumbling at the door, which was his
wraith^ nae doubts, lord be wn* him I " But to finish this
article : two men once told me the following : — They went
into a public-house one day together, to have a bottle o'
ale between them, the weather being warm ; when they
had the ale decanted out of the bottle, and were just
taking their private " crack " together, some invisible hand
struck the upper surface of the table three distinct blows,
as if with a wand. Nothing on the table was injured by
the strokes ; the glasses in which was the ale were not
upset, nothing was deranged in point of situation, but
their hearts, as they thought; up they both started and
made for the door, leaving the ale undrank ; in a few days
afterwards they heard, to their great grief, that a dear
cronie of theirs was no more ; one, when they were all
met together, used to sing, " Here are we met, three
merry boys." I could fill a quarto volume about mraiths^
and after I had done, say within myself, that I was just
where I started, unable positively to prove their existence,
or to deny them totally. On these things, as on many
486 WRA WUL
others, every man ought to think for himself. There are
either something real in them, or else they are day dreams ;
dreams, when the person is even awake. I know the mind
of man may be in this state, particularly, if a mind of fancy,
or hnagination, and may even be actually surprised with its
own creations ; the mind at this time is in a double state,
one part of it, and perhaps its least, is engaged with what
the hands are doing, the other is on the wild and roaming
wander : —
They see what cannot be told — told —
The tale which none can unfold ;
The poet's eye is a telescope,
What singular worlds 'twill ope, ope.
English song of mine.
Wrought Banes — Sprained bones with working; how often
reapers have the shackle-haru wrought in the harrest tinu;
many a time my heart has bled to see a sweet young girl
oppressed with this pain, when I had it not in my power to
aid her ; the best cure for it, is working it out in the way it
was wrought in ; sad method, yet the best ; when the bones
begin to make ^jirging noise, they are on the mending hand;
eel-skins are bound tightly round the wrists to prevent this com-
plaint, but I know not whether they do much good or not.
WuDD — Mad ; red wud, stark mad
WuDwisE — A yellow flower, which grows on bad land, and has
a bitter taste.
WuFF — A person of flighty, fiery disposition.
WuLL — Will, also wild ; lu's run wuii, he's run wild.
WuLL Nicholson, the Poet — William Nicholson, the
»
poet ; such is the truth and the pleasure I feel in saying
so is of the highest kind. W^illiam certainly is a rustic
bard of the first degree. Some years ago he published
a little volume, which has more delighted me than many
ten times its size ; the beauty of a book is not in its bulk :
indeed, " a great book is a great evil." His bardship
wanders through the country a pedlar, and plays the bag-
VVUL WUL 487
pipes ; everybody is fond of him, his cracks are extremely
diverting, so humorous, yet so melancholy ; as a song writer,
he may rank with any but Burns ; his Wild-wood side — The
Braes d Gallowa — My only /lope my Harry, (7, and some
others, are truly excellent ; they have all that simplicity and
genius which constitute good Scottish songs ; and as a
proof of their worth, they are beginning to be sung by
all the peasantry ; when this is the case, further praise
is needless ; to Fame they then go, and stand the brunts
of ages unshaken. For all the songs Sir Walter hath wrote,
few or none of them do this, which is certainly much against
their longevity ; none but 2i peasant can touch the feelings of
the peasantry, to all others they remain impregnable. My
friend William's poems are also substantial rustic buildings,
his Country Lass is a dear creature, and will live at least five
hundred years ; the tale has plot, and is touched, if not by a
master's hand, at least by an old journeyman's. Rural
Retirement also is a favourite with me, particularly that verse
This life's just like yon toddling bum,
Tho' cross craigs whiles may stint it,
Comes soughing by ilk thrawart turn,
And never looks ahint it.
My wish is, that he will lay dowTi the pack for a while, and
publish whatever other things in MS. he may have by him ;
and if he feels loath to do this, let some other one do it
for him ; let the world return him his cash for the pleasure
he offers ; the hearts of the Scotch have never been back-
ward in approving genuine worth, and about JVull Nicholson,
there is a melancholy, and an independence, that will ever
cause him to be admired by true Caledonians. And should
all mankind desert him, I hope he will find me never
far away ; whatever I can do for the good of that man.
so shall it be. If I have a saxpcnce in the world, a part
of it be his, and a word to spare, let that be said in his
favour.
488 WUL WUL
WuLLiE (Irayson — Those who have known a man of
original character, never forget him ; death may do his
will with him, but memory keeps him alive. A pleasure is
felt when speaking of such a man, even although it would
be better sometimes to padlock the tongue respecting him.
When I do so about the departed IViliie GracU^ properly
^^'illiam Grayson, I feel these sensations strong ; a warmer
hearted, a more humorous and manly fellow than Williey
hath seldom been known. He was a true Gallovidian,
though his father Caleb came from the sister kingdom ; he
came, I believe, when very young, and being a tanner by
trade, moreover an industrious, plodding soul, he soon
amassed as much cash as enabled him to purchase the
Tannaree at Millbum, beside Kirkcudbright, where our
hero, Willie, was bom. Had his father, the old English-
man, not had so much cash, probably his noble-soul*d son
would have yet been alive, and one of the best of human
beings in Galloway. Poor fellow, the worms are now his
kinsmen ; yet still do we see him coming down the street
of his native village, as few are seen coming, who can give
one of his manly swings ; there are many independent men,
apparently, who seem not to cringe, and all the rest of it,
at seasons. But Willie was independent always ; he in-
herited the glorious gift directly from Nature. At all balls,
baptisms, weddings, raffles, jerkins, piys, sprees^ and ffra}s
of every kind, he made himself a welcome guest ; and the
contents of his purse he freely flashed on all occasions,
yes, to the greatest extravagance. He had no fault, as
the auid wives said of him, but being " 7varst for himsellf
His mother-wit was of the first kind, none of your Irish
ginger repartee, but broad downright honest Scotch
humour, similar to that possessed in such an eminent degree
by the famous Robert Burns. Of mankind, he was an
excellent judge ; those whom he thought well of, " ane
might hae radc \k\(: ford wT at ony time," as the saying is ;
WUL WUL 489
yes, these persons admired by IVii/ie, would not have de-
ceived and led those away into deep water, who trusted
in them, and there have left them to perish. Of books
he was as good a critic ; those he delighted to read, or
those pieces of poetry he quoted ; all men of a free natural
disposition do the same; yet for all, ardent spirits over-
came him, and he died of apoplexy when about thirty
years of age. Though much given to debauchery, he was
greatly respected and pitied to the last ; he was much too
social to do any good in this world, and the best hand at
raising the wind, that perhaps has appeared this century.
He would have started a merry meeting in a twinkling, on
nothing, or about nothing at all ; and was still Wil/ie
Grade whether among a party of the first-rate gentlemen,
or the most ignoble of mankind ; for in the course of a
day, often, he would be seen with the greatest and the
meanest of the land ; he was just as much at his ease with
the nobleman as the blackguard — still surrounded by that
natural halo of worth which made him always so attractive.
When in gaol for debt, as he now and then had the mis-
fortune to be, when his father would not pay smarts and
clear him out of scrapes, young ladies of the first
families in the town showed much compassion for him, and
either sent him books or bottles of spirits to pass away
the time every day, so that the debtors' room, where he
was in, was more like a place of good cheer, than a
melancholy den in a prison. His favourite toast, when thus
carousing in durance, was, "Here's to the King and
Ma — rg — y M — 1 — He, no forgetting Saicnie Jlaugh and
Mrs. J — lly." Those who know these characters men-
tioned in the toast, are the only persons who know its
worth. When he was let out of gaol at one time, a gen-
tleman met with him in the street, and after having shook
him kindly by the hand, and asked how he was, began to
wonder how he got to be so fat in a place of confinement.
490 WUL WUL
" Wonder nothing about that, (quoth Willie) for how could
I be otherwise, seeing I have been so long stall fed?**
Indeed, he always had on a most contented garb of flesh,
and stood more than six foot high ; sometimes he had his
whiskers in one cut, sometimes in another ; when walking
about with his majestic air, his head inclined to a side a
little, whiles he would dress like a sailor, and sport his
huge body about in jacket and trowsers, with all the
mariners in the port following in his wake. At other times
he was a horse jockey, in wide frock coat, and boots bespat-
tered with mud : thus would he toss through the streets
of the old Borough, amongst all the inns and public-houses
as if he was doing an immense business ; indeed he was
always throng doing nothing or something less. His ac-
quaintances were most numerous ; there were some persons
who knew Willie Grayson in almost every town in Britain
and Ireland, and not a few perhaps, in the Indies and
the United States of America. He danced and drank at
bridals with great glee, and to see his vast bulk evolving
down a country dance, it inspired the whole party with
mirth, for he was an excellent dancer ; he could not, per-
haps, like a light person, " cut double quick time," as ii
is called, but he was a master of ^^ steps of his own in-
vention, which were much more amusing. Then he went
through all the ceremonies with such a manly ease, that
when he was performing them they did not seem to be
ceremonies at all. Indies and gentlemen, young and old,
were all alike fond of the harmless humourous Willie
Gracie. Once when he was at a dancing-school ball,
where a great many young ladies were "gaun through
their stei)s," as it is said, before the parents, an elderly
lady who was sitting beside our hero, directed his attention
to a young lady then dancing on the floor, and wished him
to give his opinion respecting her — " Is she not just like
an angel, that girl there ? " said our married dame to
WUL WUL 491
Willie ; " I cannot say (returned he, very serious) for I
have never seen an angel yet, wherewith I might compare
her." Indeed his mother-wit was of the first kind, and
anecdotes of his own invention just flowed on him. Great
was his humanity too ; once when a hard firost had bound
the river Dee with ice from shore to shore, a boy happening
to slide on some weak piece when the thaw had come on,
which broke from the main body, taking the poor wretch
with it furiously down the stream. Grayson being on
the shore, and observing the poor boy thus in the
greatest danger and crying out for help, plunged in
amongst the melted and melting ice, swam to him in spite
of the most chilling cold, and other obstacles, and suc-
ceeded in bringing him safe to his desponding parents ;
what could exceed this in tenderness and natural sym-
pathy ? He was an excellent swimmer for all his vast
bulk ; quite a Dr. Franklin or a Byron in the water, and
sometimes too, like that last-mentioned poetic personage, he
would amuse himself in the water with a large New-
foundland dog. In truth, it was the largest and most
strange dog I ever saw; had it not been so, it would
not have been chosen by Willie for a fit companion, as
every article about him was always of the oddest kind ;
his staffs were unmatched for shape, being always of
strange wood, and of stranger forms ; his snuff-box^ which
was as large as any three of the common sort, was made
after the soap box fashion, and always well filled with
the best Macabaa, or with the smartest Irish Black-
guard; and though he snuffed but little himself, he was
not slack in presenting it to others, which he used to do
with the most laughable courtesy. When the volunteers
started, he took to the field with them at once, first in
the cavalry, but being too weighty for his horse to
carry, he left off being aide-de-camp to General Gordon,
492 WUL WUL
and became a lieutenant in the infantry ; respecting his
horsemanship, he was one of the very best at it, not-
withstanding his corpulency. Once when he was riding
to the Dumfries rood fair, on a small horse he had of
a white colour, called Crap^ he came up with two of
the sons of Erin on the road walking on foot, and, says
the one to the other, while he was passing them, " Is not
that, Barney^ a damned fine horse ? " " It is, honey (re-
plied his comrade), but soul, it has its load too, I think."
With that horse he would ride up and down precipices at
fox hunts and other occasions, which frightened good
climbers on foot to attempt, for he had very little fear al-
ways about him, and was fond of hunting, both on horse and
foot ; and fonder of a badger or pole-cat hunt than of any
other. He never was a good shot, but he always did shoot,
whether the game was in reach or not ; for, as he said
himself, "Who knows where a blister may light?" To
shoot young crows he delighted in, particularly when he
had a party of people with him who had not shot many
guns before, then what fun he had with their blunders ; his
raillery surpassed any thing for mirth, and yet was never
ill taken by those whom it was pointed at. And a party
always attended him of various orders, such as A^ailors
and half-bred Lawyers — for he generally carried with him
a flask of good spirits, and plenty of cash to buy more
when it began to be ebbed ; he was a great friend to the
spirit dealers, and would sometimes adorn the shoulders
of their wives with shawls, and their bodies with gowns,
and for no adulterous motive ; for this crime, or for that of
debauching young women, he never was blamed. His
charity was of the most extensive nature ; he gave — God
knows what he gave away for this purpose, it was so much.
Some of those poor people he gave to thanked him, others
not, as the charitable ever find. An old woman once
WUL WUL 493
rejected a sheefs head and fed he sent her, saying, " WTiat
use were sic things to her, unless they were sung; had
Willie sent me sax pence to fill my cutty wi' tobacco, I wad
hae thanked him in a different way." It was past his power
to behold any being in distress and not try to ameliorate it.
In short, he run his virtues into vices, by going to extremes,
but he always said — " he could not help it," which was true,
for he could not " mtfre Imnselly^ as is said when man wants
self-control.
It is needless, however, to speak of his great talents
or his great errors farther; those who knew him best,
knew well, that for his abilities they cannot be praised
too much, and his vices enough execrated. Were I as
he was, in some things I have noticed in the course of
this sketch, I might consider myself very clever indeed;
but in other things, I hope God may keep me clear of
them. Let his errors sink to oblivion though, and his
excellent feelings remain amongst us while a Gallovidian
exists.
A friend of his, on hearing of his death, allowed his soul
to break forth in these verses : —
Poor Willie Gracie, what is this of thee ?
Art thou gone down to doze within the grave,
Art thou forsaken every merry spree,
Has Death, the Tyrant, got thee made a slave ?
O ! but he is a base, a bloody knave,
To coop thee up in a cold gloomy urn !
But vain it is for me at him to rave,
For all my sayings he will only spurn,
And laughing shout, ** thou never shalt return."
But can he hinder me for thee to weep?
And stem the tears that down my cheeks do flow ;
Xay, not unless he lays me down to sleep.
Like thee, poor Willie, in the dust below.
For while I live and wander to and fro
On this strange, mystic, silent rolling ball,
My heart for thee will often beat in woe,
And mourn and bleed about thy early fall ;
For such a man again, I ne'er shall hnd at all.
494 WUL WUR
I have matter to fill many a sheet in the way I have done
about him, but prudence makes me end here with an Epitaph,
some one or other composed on him. —
EPITAPH.
Here, in his cold urn
Lies the King of the Millbum ;
Death hath this monarch humbled,
And in this grave his body tumbled.
He was made up of good and ill,
Yet he was warmly loved still ;
His heart was ever just and kind,
Big was the man, and big his mind ;
The sun hath seldom set his face on
Such a lad as William Grayson.
Wullie-Wagtail — The water-wagtail bird.
WuLLSHOCH — A timid courtier ; " A faint heart never gains
a fair lady ; " " None but the brave deserves the fair."
" Mori pro patria est dulce " — " To die for one's country is
sweet," but to die for one's love is sweeter. IVuiiymrt and
WuUshoch are one.
WuRGiLL — This and Wurling are one to the meaning ; both
signify a person of narrow mind, given to this world's
care.
WuRRicow — A hobgoblin of rather an infernal order ; co7v is a
kind of de'il^ but worri-cow is a worrying de*il ; probably
some may wish to hear —
THE WAILINGS O' THE WORRICOW.
Whan the sun-light out o' Killhow had gane,
Ane worricow sat on the auld grey stane ;
It seem'd to fin' a ncdeum, for loud it did grane.
And gaunted out Hech-how-hum.
The neb o't was clouped, and sharp were its claws,
And' they chirket on ither its lang thin jaws ;
And ay now and than for some, l>ecause
It sang dolefu' Hech-how-hum.
*' Weel may I, ay, may I, sae may I mourn,"
Quoth it, *' for my guid friens o' Bogle Burn,
'* I'the Buss o' Biel now they dinna sojourn,
" Billielu-ya- Hech-how-hum."
WUR WYT 495
'* Where the hule was invented, this light o' lair,
** Whilk now to see shining, makes me ay sair,
'* It has frighten'd my cronies awa for ever mair,
** Valloch hu ye, Ilech-how-hum.
*' It's needless for me now to yoke to and croon
** Aneath the weak beams o* a gibbous moon ;
*' For the l>eing scared a' men hae got aboon,
"Taho-a-hu-ya, llech-how-hum.
'* And as for my mighty master, the I)e*il,
** They l(K)k on him just like a common cheel ;
** For the jwwer o' his glaumer they never feel,
** O ! hum, O ! yao, Hech-how-hum.
** Through a* kirk-yards now the folk can gang,
** At the mirkiest hour, and sing a bit sang,
** They never trimmle, or fins ought wrang,
** Holyaala, Ilech-how-hum.
** Your Rtntniree Ron and the Co' o^ Kirclaughy
** The Bnllister Glen^ and the Bucky Haugh^
*' Men now cares na for, they can gang in them and laugh,
** Bummle-whara, Hech-how-hum.
" Curse on the dominies and colleges a',
** For they hin'er us to carry on weel now ava ;
'* May knowledge some night again smoor i' the sna',
* * WuUin-a-u-ya, Hech-how- hum. "
WuTCH-scoRE — Anciently, witches were scored or cut above the
eyes, to prevent their cantrips taking effect. The method
they took to prove females having witchcraft was, by throw-
ing them into a deep pool of water; if they sank they were no
witches, but if they swim'd, they were, and so were taken out,
and brunt accordingly.
WvLE — To entice, to coax ; also a rope-twister.
WvTE — Blame. Lindsay of Pitscottie^ our worthy and honest
Scottish historian, sayetli, that fornication was to wyte^
for the Scotch losing the battle of Flodden ; and St, yohn^
of Linlithgow, sayeth, that mclling with ivometi before a
battle is what is not right. Our soldiers too had nigh
tint the battle of Waterloo by tnelling at mouth-thankless
the eve before it ; many an officer there was buried in
his dancing pumps after that bluidy bout ; and many have
494
alxnil W
SollK' (»I
Wri i.ir:-W\(;i
Wri.T.sifoiii
a fair lady ;
*• Mori pro ]•■
sweet," but i-
WulIshocJi ar.
\Vi'R<;iM.--'rhi-
siiziiity a ]»«.■
( ;irc.
\Vi RkK «i\v- -A : •
kind of iicil. '
sialic iiiav ^vi>^^
Till. V.
Winn •' ■
Alii' \\ "■ : .
It v^t III".. ■
Ai.-l i:;ur ;
XV.v iicl ■■
An-l till \ • ".
I: -.;■■!;■: .1..1
" \\. K-\ i;i.v.
< hiulli i:. " •
•• I': . Hi;- . ■
•' l:i;Iir!i:-% -!
name of Maxwell, who was drowned in Fleet The people
attached some superstition to these tykts. A verse of a song
on the subject ran thus —
■ ' The nighi was dark, the walcr statk,
" And nane to help the nuin,
" Sue death accost, and sae wiu losi
"Biave Maiwcllo' SlraniiaH."
Yerl o' Hell — The Laird d Slagarie ; one of the wildest
wretches ever known in the world, He and his sons neither
dreaded hell nor the Devil; they were in the poet's eye when
he wrote this strange poem —
THE BURNING O' THE BIBLE.
For a' Anld Scoilan'i weel ken'd lair.
And bulks in volumes mony.
Far a' her lads and lasses fair.
Sweet, sensible, and bonny ;
Sad sighls by orra times arise.
Oh 1 shudderin to the soul.
As that whilk did us a surprise
last year M Auchenhoul
Ae wild dark night
There won'd ane haUion o' a laird
As mony a ane has seen,
Wha lo'ed to shave a tenant's beanl
Till [ears stood in Ihe e'en ;
lie was a bachelor, and did hate
To see a woman body.
And puir fowk dur^t na gang the nle
O' that de'll's-scurr, I jinl Wuddie,
To bide a" nighl.
He wa« disliked far and near,
Nane cared for him bul twa ;
Twa no unlike the savage bear,
Btaci Jack and Major Gaw.
The threesome fear'd na heaven nor hell.
But danm'd and drunk and swore,
They alten gaed lo the Blut BM,
And ilk ane waled his whore.
To pass the night.
tnfenia] men, to be allow'd
To live upon the earth ;
Vet it ii Ti^i that whiles there should
Big rascals here hae birth.
496 YAB YEL
as much cause to be tvyted for behaviour in that aflfray,
as ever King Jamie and Mrs, Foord had for theirs— ^-^^«^,
verbum sat
Y.
Yabbock — A chattering, talkative person; a gabbock, sometimes
this is pronounced abbock. It is nearly the same with yackuz^
a person ^\iO yacks^ who talks thick; who ratherly maunts^ yet
is fond of catting.
Yallow-wvmed ask — A kind of lizard, with yellow belly and
black back, seen in suspicious places, and is supposed to have
poison about some of its hinner-liths.
Yallow-vorlings — The birds yellow-hammers, sometimes
termed yoits. These birds, like the stane-chackcrs^ are dis-
liked in the country.
Yammer — To whine, to fret.
Y ANKER — The same with Spanker, a tall, clever girl.
Yark — A blow. Yarking-on, lashing away, as on horseback.
Yaud — An old mare. Yauds, jaded horses.
Yawp — The cr\' of a sickly bird ; or one in distress.
Yef.l — Barren ; a rock is said to be yell when it will not quarry
but with gunpowder ; a field is said to be yell when nothing
will grow on it ; a cow is ydl when she gives no milk,
and so on.
Yelu)ch — A loud yell. Ydloching, yelling loudly. Some
Scottish writer says, that ^'' ^ox\d\\ yclloched three days through
the City of Niniveh, after the whaul spewed him out o' her
wynie."
Yflt.pers — Dogs which barked or yelpt for some time
through Galloway. They belonged to a huntsman of the
YEL YER 497
name of Maxwell, who was drowned in Fleet The people
attached some superstition to these tykes, A verse of a song
on the subject ran thus —
**The night was dark, the water stark,
** And nane to help the man,
*' Sae death accost, and sae was lost
"Brave Maxwell o* Strcewhany
Yerl o' Hell — The Laird d Slagarie ; one of the wildest
wretches ever known in the world, He and his sons neither
dreaded hell nor the Devil; they were in the poet's eye when
he wrote this strange poem —
THE BURNING O' THE BIBLE.
For a' Auld Scotlan's weel ken*d lair,
And buiks in volumes mony.
Far a' her lads and lasses fair.
Sweet, sensible, and bonny ;
Sad sights by orra times arise,
Oh ! shudderin to the soul,
As that whilk did us a surprise
Last year at Auchenhoul
Ae wild dark night
There won'd ane hallion o' a laird
As mony a ane has seen,
Wha lo'ed to shave a tenant's beard
Till tears stood in the e'en ;
He was a bachelor, and did hate
To see a woman body.
And puir fowk durst na gang the gate
O* that de'irs-scurr, I^ird Wuddie,
To bide a' night.
He was disliked far and near,
Nane cared for him but twa ;
Twa no unlike the savage bear.
Black yock and Afajor Gaw,
The threesome feared na heaven nor hell,
But damn'd and drunk and swore,
They aften gaed to the Blue Bell^
And ilk ane waled his whore,
To pass the night.
Infernal men, to be allow M
To live upon the earth ;
Yet it is right that whiles there should
Big rascals here hae birth.
2 I
498 YER — YER
Sae then we even frae precept, see,
The right road frae tlie wrang,
And shun the pain nae saul can dree,
The conscience that dis stang.
By day and night.
Weel, at the laird's o' Auchenhoul
Our wicked three did meet,
As aft they had, and owre the bowl
Their wild lewd tales repeat
And ane o' them, the laird himsell.
The brocket scoolin skyble,
Which ay did rather bear the bell.
Proposed to bu7^ the Bible
hR han* that night.
They a* agreed, the buik's brought forth,
And damned a foolish thing,
Containing neither sense nor worth,
llian intae flames they fling.
The word o* gude, our glorious light.
And trusty guide for ever,
Then swore an aith wi' a' their might,
** To perish vile deceiver "
Henceforth that night.
Natur was mad, her thunner cluds
Row'd blackly, and did battle.
The wun blew heels, owre head and wuds,
The dawdin hail (lid brattle.
And cross the lift, the lightning swift.
In forked wrath did flee,
The white faem frae the waves did drift.
As glad to lae the sea.
That awfu' night.
And whiles the man i'the moon wad strive
At them to hae a peep,
He'd mirkly glowre, then seem to dive
That moment to the deep ;
As banks o' scud drave ragged past,
And blashed upon his face,
F*or blast on blast, frae the southwast.
Did ither raging chace,
That horrid night.
And just ahint the infernal ha',
The hay-stack gaed in blaze,
The lightnin strack it, which set a'
The household in amaze.
And right upon fair Auchenhoul
The wun the flames did blavv.
To sloken't quick ran every soul.
And water fast did jaw
Frae kits that night.
YER YER 499
But hoh anee, the waul ran dry,
Nae mair lay near at han\
The helpers a' gat in a fry,
And up and down they ran.
Black Jock wad to a neebor farm
To get mair aid the hallop,
The Major he wad too alarm,
And aff the de'il did gallop
On naig that night.
Jock took the near cut through the moss,
And darkly dawdg'd awa.
But faun' himsell soon at a loss,
In the ji*refn quakanqua.
He warroch'd out, tho haflins drown'd,
Mis daise about him clashin.
Then dawner'd on whar heuchs abound.
And down dashM to damnation
Owre ane that night
The Major, wi' the drink that he
Had tooted frae the bicker.
Began to swing, and noop and jee.
He cudna hauf sit sicker ;
His cowt grew reezy, its lang tail
*Twad swash, and lugs wad birr up.
At length it cuist him, and did trail
Him hame, by fit i'e stirrup,
'Thout head, that night.
The laird himsell did damn and curse,
.And stupified a' roun*.
Made an attempt to save his purse.
Containing ten-score poun*.
He scaled a winnock wi' great risk.
What reck or lowe cud stap him ;
He rave the siller firae the desk,
But now a trap did snap him,
Gye snell that night.
While coming through the bore outback
A rafter down did fa\
Which catch'd a leg, then he did rack,
And tweest himsell and dra' ;
But cudna freet, a* he cud rive,
O ! shockin scene to tell.
There hang he, and was fry'd alive.
E'en or he wan to hell
That fleysom night.
Up rump and stump did Auchen bum,
The lairdy and his ha'
They into shunners black did turn,
I^ng or next day did daw ;
500 YEU YIR
lliere let them lie, a warning to
Thae haters o' the light ay,
Thae frozen sinners here below
Wha fear na God Almighty,
By day nor night.
Behold the truth, O ! infidels,
It plainly lies afore ye.
Disdain Tam Paine, look at yersell's,
A' natur dis implore ye.
Bethink, bethink, or ye may sink.
In that black pit, wide yawnin ;
O ! why look at it, lae its brink.
And let the light come dawnin
To fley the night.
Yeuck — ^The scab, the itch ; yeucky^ itchy. " 111 male him
claw whar he's noyeucky;^^ a phrase, meaning, " I'll strike him
with the fist, so that he shall rub himself, though not
itchy."
Yeul — To howl, to complain, to whinge.
YicKiE Yawkie — A tool used by shoe-makers.
YiLL-CAUPS — Cups to drink ale out of; those girls with large
eyes, are said to have " e'en like yill-caups^^ trikU-yill ale,
made from treacle.
YiMMET — Apiecey a lunch, several j/wj of food. '
Yin — One. Yince, once.
YiRB-wivES — Old females, skilled in the virtues of plants and
yirbs. When a cow takes the Tailill^ or is Elfshoi^ these
females are sent for to cure them. The fact is, they are a
species of witch quack-doctor.
YiRD-FASTS — I^rge stones sticking in the yird^ or earth,
that the plough cannot move. Yird d Cassle maddit^ a
famous place for the fox ; see the poem Auid Huntsman.
The cauld yird, the grave ; various emblems of our latter
end strike us. On observing an auld tree a blawing down by
the wind —
Tuir auld fellow, ye maun fa\
And lae thy ither comrades a',
That awfu' gurl which now did bla',
Has whurl'd ye owre ;
To liaud the grup with thy dazVl cla',
Is past thy pow'r.
YIR YOU 501
Mony a roaring blast fu' wild
Thou has't weather'd nobly sin* a child,
And at the wrath o' Boreas smil'd,
Wi' trim'lin glee ;
Until his lordship sour, grew mild.
But Oh ! anee.
The upper han' at last he has gat,
And reerd thee on thy bench m' flat,
Nae mair will saucy pyets chat,
Amang thy boughs ;
Whan Bawdrons, the black gib cat.
Sprawls up, and mews.
Nor burdies hap upon thee, trig,
And nip the green worm aff the twig.
Or sing or seek for holes to big.
Their wee-bit nests ;
Whare they fu* coozily may lig
Maist free o' pests.
And, o, I'm sure the craws will yum,
Whan they in April do return,
And misses you, wha aft has borne.
Their safest rookery ;
Indeed, there's few (but her) will mourn,
Wha tents the cookery.
For a' wha hae thy glory seen.
Whan thou baud on thy coat o' green.
And bumbees wheeling through atween
Thy budding leaves.
May weel lament for thee, I ween,
Wi* bibbling heaves.
Thou art an emblem plain to me,
The day will come whan I maun be
Capsized on the yird, like thee.
To rot awa ;
Nae mair the storms o* fate to dree,
Which roun* me bla'.
YiRM — ^To chirm like a bird. YirmSy small-sized fruit.
YiRNS — Eagles. These birds build about the Cairn' s-
moors.
YiRTH — Earth.
YisK — To hiccup.
YoMF — A blow.
YouNG-FOWK — People newly married; people beginning the
world as it were, young in the wars of life.
502 YUL YUL
Yule-boys — Boys who ramble the country during the Christ-
mas holidays. They are dressed in white^ all but one in
each gang^ the Belzebub of the corps. They have a foolish
kind of a rhyme they go through before people with, and so
receive bawbees and pieces. This rhyme is now-a-days so
sadly mutilated, that I can make little of it as to what it
means ; but it evidently seems to have an ancient origin :
and in old Scottish books I see some notice taken of
Quhite boys of Zule, The plot of the rhyme seems to be —
two knights dispute about a female, and fight ; the one falls,
and Belzebub appears and cures him. I may here give a
sketch of something like the scene, with the attending
rhymes. Enter Belzebub^ and proceeds —
Here come I, auld Beelzebub,
And over my showther I carry a dub ;
And in my hand a frying-pan,
Sae don't ye think I'm a jolly auld man.
Christmas comes but ance in the year.
And when it comes it brings good cheer.
For here are two just going to fight.
Whether 1 say 'tis wrong or right.
My master loves such merry fun,
And I the same do never shun ;
Their yarking splore with the quarter-stalT,
I almost swear will make me laugh.
The knights enter now, dressed in white robes, with
sticks in their hands, and so they have a set-to at sparring,
while one of them accompanies the strokes of the sticks
with this rhyme —
Strike then, strike, my boy,
For I will strike if you are coy,
I'm lately come frae out the west,
Where I've made many a spirit rest ;
I've fought in my bloody wars.
Beyond the sun, among the stars,
W'ith restless ghosts, and what you know
Flock there when ere the cock <loth crow ;
I've elbow'd thousands into hell,
My ears delight to hear them yell.
I've broke the backs of millions more
Upon that grim infernal shore ;
So strike if you're a valiant knight.
Or I shall knock ye down with might.
YUL YUL 503
Your proud insults 1*11 never bear,
To inches I'll your body tear ;
If you, my love, can keep, can keep.
You first must make me sleep, sleep, sleep.
The second Knight now speaks, and the sparring becomes
keener : —
I^sh, dash — your staff to crash,
My fool, have you the water brash ?
' If you have not, I soon shall know,
I soon shall cause you tumble low ;
So thump away, and I shall fling
Some blows on you, and make ye ring
Like ye sounding belly buts.
To start the music of thy guts ;
Or clinkers on thy hairy scull.
To fell thee like a homed bull.
Keel away, who first shall fall
Must pardon from the other call ;
Tho* you have fought beyond the sun,
I find we'll have some goodly fun ;
For I have boxed in the E^t,
To solar furnace toss'd the beast.
First Knight falls and sings out —
A doctor ! doctor, or I die —
" A doctor, doctor, here am I."
Wounded Knight sayeth —
** What can you cure ? "
Belzebub answereth —
" All disorders to be sure,
** The gravel and the gout,
" The rotting of the snout ;
'* If the devil be in you,
" I can blow him out
" Cut off legs and arms,
** Join them too again
** By the virtue ofmy club,
'* Up Jack, and fight amain," &c. &c
Thus a fellow is struck out olfive senses inio fifteett.
To conclude the whole matter then, I console myself
by singing this little song : — The Book personified in my
Love,
The wuntry sun's gane down my love.
And cauld lies the sna ;
But the spring may soon come roun' my love,
And thow it a' awa ;
/
492 WUL WUL
and became a lieutenant in the infantry ; respecting his
horsemanship, he was one of the very best at it, not-
withstanding his corpulency. Once when he was riding
to the Dumfries rood fair, on a small horse he had of
a white colour, called Crap^ he came up with two of
the sons of Erin on the road walking on foot, and, says
the one to the other, while he was passing them, " Is not
that, Bantey^ a damned fine horse ? " ** It is, honey (re-
plied his comrade), but soul, it has its load too, I think"
With that horse he would ride up and down precipices at
fox hunts and other occasions, which frightened good
climbers on foot to attempt, for he had very little fear al-
ways about him, and was fond of hunting, both on horse and
foot ; and fonder of a badger or pole-cat hunt than of any
other. He never was a good shot, but he alii-ays did shwt^
whether the game was in reach or not ; for, as he said
himself, "WTio knows where a blister may light?" To
shoot young crows he delighted in, particularly when he
had a party of people with him who had not shot many
guns before, then what fun he had with their blunders ; his
raillery surpassed any thing for mirth, and yet was never
ill taken by those whom it was pointed at. And a party
always attended him of various orders, such as Nailers
and half-bred Lawyers — for he generally carried with him
a flask of good spirits, and plenty of cash to buy more
when it began to be ebbed ; he was a great friend to the
spirit dealers, and would sometimes adorn the shoulders
of their wives with shawls, and their bodies with gowTis,
and for no adulterous motive ; for this crime, or for that of
debauching young women, he never was blamed. His
charity was of the most extensive nature ; he gave — God
knows what he gave away for this purpose, it was so much.
Some of those poor people he gave to thanked him, others
not, as the charitable ever find. An old woman once
WUL WUL 493
rejected a sheep's head and feet he sent her, saying, " What
use were sic things to her, unless they were sung; had
Willie sent me sax pence to fill ray cutty wi' tobacco, I wad
hae thanked him in a different way." It was past his power
to behold any being in distress and not try to ameliorate it.
In short, he run his virtues into vices, by going to extremes,
but he always said — " he could not help it," which was true,
for he could not ^^ <nvre himself' as is said when man wants
self-control.
It is needless, however, to speak of his great talents
or his great errors farther; those who knew him best,
knew well, that for his abilities they cannot be praised
too much, and his vices enough execrated. Were I as
he was, in some things I have noticed in the course of
this sketch, I might consider myself very clever indeed;
but in other things, I hope God may keep me clear of
them. Let his errors sink to oblivion though, and his
excellent feelings remain amongst us while a Gallovidian
exists.
A friend of his, on hearing of his death, allowed his soul
to break forth in these verses : —
Poor Willie Gracie, what is this of thee ?
Art thou gone down to doze within the grave,
Art thou forsaken every merry spree,
Has Death, the Tyrant, got thee made a slave ?
O ! but he is a base, a bloody knave,
To coop thee up in a cold gloomy urn !
But vain it is for me at him to rave,
For all my sayings he will only spurn.
And laughing shout, '* thou never shalt return."
But can he hinder me for thee to weep ?
And stem the tears that down my cheeks do flow ;
Nay, not unless he lavs me down to sleep.
Like thee, poor Willie, in the dust below.
For while I live and wander to and fro
On this strange, mystic, silent rolling ball,
My heart for thee will often beat in woe.
And mourn and bleed about thy early fall ;
For such a man again, I ne'er shall hnd at all.
494 WUL WUR
I have matter to fill many a sheet in the way I have done
about him, but prudence makes me end here with an Epitaph,
some one or other composed on him. —
EPITAPH.
Here, in his cold urn
Lies the King of the MUlhum ;
Death hath this monarch humbled.
And in this grave his body tumbled.
He was made up of good and ill.
Yet he was warmly loved still ;
His heart was ever just and kind.
Big was the man, and big his mind ;
The sun hath seldom set his face on
Such a lad as William Grayson.
Wullie-Wagtatl — The water-wagtail bird.
WuLLSHOCH — A timid courtier ; " A faint heart never gains
a fair lady ; " " None but the brave deserves the fair."
" Mori pro patria est dulce " — " To die for one's country is
sweet," but to die for one's love is sweeter. WuHymrt and
WuUshoch are one.
WuRGiLL — This and Wurling are one to the meaning ; both
signify a person of narrow mind, given to this world's
care.
WuRRicow — A hobgoblin of rather an infernal order ; cow is a
kind of de'il^ but worri-coyf is a worrying de'il ; probably
some may wish to hear —
THE WAILINGS O' THE WORRICOW.
Whan the sun-light out o' Killhow had gane,
Ane worricow sat on the auld grey stane ;
It seem'd to fin' a nedeum, for loud it did grane.
And gaunted out Hech-how-hum.
The neb o't was clouped, and sharp were its claws.
And' they chirket on ither its lang thin jaws ;
And ay now and than for some, because
It sang dolefu' Hech-how-hum.
" Weel may I, ay, may I, sae may I mourn,"
Quoth it, ** for my guid friens o' Bogle Bum,
"I'the Buss o' Biel now they dinna sojourn,
* ' Billielu-ya- Hech-how-hum. "
WUR WYT 495
** Where the hule was invented, this light o' lair,
** Whilk now to see shining, makes me ay sair,
** It has frighten'd my cronies awa for ever mair,
** Yalloch hu ye, Hech-how-hum.
'* Tt*s needless for me now to yoke to and croon
" Aneath the weak beams o' a gibbous moon ;
** For the being scared a' men hae got aboon,
•*Taho-a-hu-ya, Hech-how-hum.
** And as for my mighty master, the De'il,
** They look on him just like a common cheel ;
** For the power o' his glaumer they never feel,
** O ! hum, O ! yao, Hech-how-hum.
** Through a* kirk-yards now the folk can gang,
** At the mirkiest hour, and sing a bit sang,
** They never trimmle, or fins ought wrang,
** Holyaala, Hech-how-hum.
** Your BoTiortree JRott and the Co^ o^ Kirclaugh^
** The Bullister Glett, and the Bucky Haugh,
*' Men now cares na for, they can gang in them and laugh,
** Bummle-whara, Hech-how-hum.
** Curse on the dominies and colleges a',
** For they hin'er us to carry on weel now ava ;
** May knowledge some night again smoor i* the sna',
** WuUin-a-u-ya, Hech-how-hum."
WuTCH-scoRE — Anciently, witches were scored or cut above the
eyes, to prevent their cantrips taking eflfect The method
they took to prove females having witchcraft was, by throw-
ing them into a deep pool of water; if they sank they were no
witches, but if they swim'd, they were, and so were taken out,
and brunt accordingly.
Wyle — To entice, to coax ; also a rope-twister.
WvTE — Blame. Lindsay of Pitscottie, our worthy and honest
Scottish historian, sayeth, that fornication was to wyte^
for the Scotch losing the battle of Flodden ; and St, yohn,
of Linlithgow, sayeth, that vielling with women before a
battle is what is not right. Our soldiers too had nigh
tint the battle of Waterloo by melling at mouth-thankless
the eve before it ; many an officer there was buried in
his dancing pumps after that bluidy bout ; and many have
496 YAB YEL
as much cause lo be ivyted for behaviour in that afl&ay,
as ever King Jamie and Mrs, Foord had for theirs— ^-^ifcr>i,
verbum sat
Y.
Yabbock — A chattering, talkative person; 2i gabbock^ sometinies
this is pronounced abbock. It is nearly the same with yackus,
a person ytho yacks^ who talks thick; who ratherly mauntSj yet
is fond oi catting.
Yallow-wymed ask — A kind of lizard, with yellow belly and
black back, seen in suspicious places, and is supposed to have
poison about some of its hinner-liths.
Yallow-yorlings — The birds yellow-hammers, sometimes
termed yoits. These birds, like the stane-chackers^ are dis-
liked in the country.
Yammer — To whine, to fret.
Y ANKER — The same with Spanker, a till, clever girl.
Yark — A blow. Yarking-on, lashing away, as on horseback.
Yaud — An old mare. Yauds, jaded horses.
Yawp — The crj^ of a sickly bird ; or one in distress.
Yell — Barren ; a rock is said to be yell when it will not quarry
but with gunpowder ; a field is said to be yell when nothing
will grow on it ; a cow is yell when she gives no milk,
and so on.
Yelu)ch — A loud yell. Yclloching, yelling loudly. Some
Scottish writer saj-s, that "Jonah jr/A?r//<r^ three days through
the City of Niniveh, after the whaul spewed him out o' her
w>Tne."
Yellpkrs — Dogs wliich barked or yelpt for some time
through Galloway. They belonged to a huntsman of the
YEL YER 497
name of Maxwell, who was drowned in Fleet The people
attached some superstition to these tykes, A verse of a song
on the subject ran thu!
''The night was dark, the water stark,
** And nane to help the man,
** Sae death accost, and sae was lost
"Brave Maxwell o* SfrawAan.^*
Yerl o' Hell — The Zaird d Slagarie ; one of the wildest
wretches ever known in the world, He and his sons neither
dreaded hell nor the Devil; they were in the poet's eye when
he wrote this strange poem —
THE BURNING O* THE BIBLE.
For a* Auld Scotlan*s weel ken*d lair.
And bulks in volumes mony.
Far a* her lads and lasses fair.
Sweet, sensible, and bonny ;
Sad sights by orra times arise.
Oh ! shudderin to the soul.
As that whilk did us a surprise
Last year at Auchenhoul
Ae wild dark night
There won'd ane hallion o' a laird
As mony a ane has seen,
\Vha lo'ed to shave a tenant's beanl
Till tears stood in the e'en ;
He was a bachelor, and did hate
To see a woman body,
And puir fowk durst na gang the gate
O* that deMl's-scurr, I^ird Wuddie,
To bide a* night.
He was dislikeil far and near,
Nane cared for him but twa ;
Twa no unlike the savage bear,
Black yock and Major Gaw.
The threesome fear*d na heaven nor hell,
But damn'd and drunk and swore.
They aften gaed to the Blue Bell^
And ilk ane waled his whore,
To pass the night.
Infernal men, to be allow 'd
To live upon the earth ;
Yet it is right that whiles there should
Big rascals here hae birth.
2 I
498 YER YER
Sae then we even free precept, see,
The right road free tne wrang,
And shun the pain nae sanl can dree.
The conscience that dis stang.
By day and night.
Weel, at the laird's o' Auchenhoul
Our wicked three did meet,
As aft they had, and outc the bowl
Their wild lewd tales repeat.
And ane o' them, the laird himsell.
The brocket scoolin skyble.
Which ay did rather bear the bell.
Proposed to htm the Bible
Aff han' that night.
They a' agreed, the buik's brought forth.
And damned a foolish thing.
Containing neither sense nor worth.
Than intae flames they fling.
The word o' gude, our glorious light.
And trusty guide for ever,
Then swore an aith wi' a' their might,
** To perish vile deceiver "
Henceforth that night.
Natur was mad, her thunner cluds
RowM blackly, and did battle.
The wun blew heels, owre head and wnds.
The dawdin hail did brattle.
And cross the lift, the lightning swift.
In forked wrath did flee.
The white faem frae the waves did drift.
As glad to lae the sea.
That awfii' night.
And whiles the man i'the moon wad strive
At them to hae a peep.
He'd mirkly gloi*Te, then seem to dive
That moment to the deep ;
As banks o' scud drave ragged past,
And blashed upon his face.
For blast on blast, frae the southwast.
Did ither raging chace.
That horrid night.
And just ahint the infernal ha'.
The hay-stack gaed in blaze.
The lightnin strack it, which set a'
The household in amaze.
And right upon fair Auchenhoul
The wun the flames did blaw,
To sloken't quick ran every soul,
And water fast did jaw
Frae kits that night.
YER YER 499
But hoh anee, the waul ran dry,
Nae mair lay near at han',
The helpers a' gat in a fiy,
And up and down they ran.
Black Jock wad to a neebor farm
To get mair aid the hallop,
The Major he wad too alarm,
And iff the de'il did gallop
On naig that night.
Jock took the near cut through the moss,
And darkly dawdg'd awa,
But faun' himsell soon at a loss,
In the ^trfft quakanqua.
He warroch*d out, tho* haflins drown'd.
His claise about him clashin,
Then dawner'd on whar heuchs abound,
And down dash'd to damnation
Owre ane that night.
The Major, wi* the drink that he
Had tooted frae the bicker.
Began to swing, and noop and jee.
He cudna hauf sit sicker ;
His cowt grew reezy, its lang tail
*Twad SMrash, and lugs wad birr up.
At length it cuist him, and did trail
Him hame, by fit i'e stirrup,
'Thout headt that night.
The laird himsell did damn and curse,
•And stupified a' roun'.
Made an attempt to save his purse,
Containing ten-score poun\
He scaled a winnock wi' great risk,
What reek or lowe cud stap him ;
He rave the siller frae the desk,
But now a trap did snap him,
Gye snell that night.
While coming through the bore outback
A rafter down did fa'.
Which catch'd a leg, then he did rack.
And tweest himsell and dra' ;
But cudna freet, a' he cud rive,
O ! shockin scene to tell,
There hang he, and was fry'd alive,
E'en or he wan to hell
That fleysom night.
Up rump and stump did Auchen bum,
The lairdy and his ha'
They into shunners black did turn,
Lang or next day did daw ;
500 YEU YIR
There let them lie, a wmnniiig to
Thae haters o' the light ay,
Thae frozen sinners here below
^Vha fear na God Almighty,
By day nor night.
Behold the truth, O ! infidels.
It plainly lies afore ye.
Disdain Tarn PatMe, look at yersell's,
A* natur dis implore ye.
Bethink, bethink, or ye may sink.
In that black pit, wide yawnin ;
O ! why look at it, lae its brink,
And let the light come dawnin
To fley the night.
Yeuck — The scab, the itch; yeucky^ itchy. "I'll mak him
claw whar he's noyeucky;^' a phrase, meaning, " I'll strike him
with the fist, so that he shall rub himself, though not
itchy."
Ykul — To howl, to complain, to whinge.
YicKiE Yawkie — A tool used by shoe-makers.
YiLL-CAUPS — Cups to drink ale out of; those girls with large
eyes, are said to have " e'en like yiU-caups^ trikU-yill ale,
made from treacle.
YiMMET — \piecey a limch, several j/wj of food. *
Yin — One. Yince, once.
YiRB-wivES — Old females, skilled in the virtues of plants and
yirbs. When a cow takes the Taiiiil, or is Elfshoi, these
females are sent for to cure them. The fact is, they are a
species of witch quack-doctor,
YiRD-FASi'S — I^rge stones sticking in the yird^ or earth,
that the plough cannot move. Yird d Cassle maddie^ a
famous place for the fox; see the poem Auld Huntsman,
The cauld yirdj the grave ; various emblems of our latter
end strike us. On observing an auid tree a blawing down by
the wind —
Tuir auld fellow, ye maun fa',
And lae thv ither comrades a',
That awfu gurl which now did bla*,
Has whurl'd ye owre ;
To haud the grup with thy daz'd cla*.
Is past thy pow'r.
YIR YOU 501
Mony a roaring blast fu' wild
Thou has't weather*d nobly sin* a child,
And at the wrath o' Boreas smil'd,
Wi* trim'lin glee ;
Until his lordship sour, grew mild.
But Oh ! anee.
The upper han' at last he has pat,
And reel'd thee on thy bench ni' flat,
Nae mair will saucy pyets chat,
Amang thy boughs ;
Whan Bawdrons, the black gib cat.
Sprawls up, and mews.
Nor burdies hap upon thee, trig.
And nip the green worm aflf the twig,
Or sing or seek for holes to big,
Their wee-bit nests ;
Whare they fu* coozily may lig
Maist free o' pests.
And, o, I'm sure the craws will yum.
Whan they in April do return,
And misses you, wha aft has borne.
Their safest rookery ;
Indeed, there's few (but her) will mourn,
Wha tents the cookery.
For a* wha hae thy glory seen.
Whan thou baud on thy coat o' green.
And bumbees wheeling through atween
Thy budding leaves.
May weel lament for thee, I ween,
Wi' bibbling heaves.
Thou art an emblem plain to me.
The day will come whan I maun be
Capsized on the yird, like thee.
To rot awa ;
Nae mair the storms o' fate to dree.
Which roun' me bla'.
YiRM — ^To chirm like a bird. YirmSy small-sized fruit.
YiRNS — Eagles. These birds build about the Cairn's-
nwors,
YiRTH:— Earth.
YisK — To hiccup.
YoMF — A blow.
YouNG-FOWK — People newly married ; people beginning the
world as it were, young in the wars of life.
502 YUL YUL
Yule-boys — Boys who ramble the country during the Christ-
mas holidays. They are dressed in white^ all but one in
each gang^ the Belzebub of the corps. They have a foolish
kind of a rhyme they go through before people with, and so
receive bawbees and pieces. This rhyme is now-a-days so
sadly mutilated, that I can make little of it as to what it
means; but it evidently seems to have an ancient origin:
and in old Scottish books I see some notice taken of
Quhite boys of Zule. The plot of the rhyme seems to be —
two knights dispute about a female, and fight ; the one falls,
and Belzebub appears and cures him. I may here give a
sketch of something like the scene, with the attending
rhymes. Enter Belzebub^ and proceeds —
Here come I, auld Beelzebub,
And over my showther I carry a dub ;
And in my hand a frying-pan,
Sae don't ye think I'm a jolly auld man.
Christmas comes but ance in the year,
And when it comes it brings good cheer.
For here are two just going to fight.
Whether I say 'tis wrong or right.
My master loves such merry fun.
And I the same do never shun ;
Their yarking splore with the quarter-staff,
I almost swear will make me laugh.
The knights enter now, dressed in white robes, w\\h
sticks in their hands, and so they have a set-to at sparring,
while one of them accompanies the strokes of the sticks
with this rhyme —
Strike then, strike, my boy.
For I will strike if you are coy,
I'm lately come frae out the west.
Where 1 ve made many a spirit rest ;
I've fought in my bloody wars.
Beyond the sun, among the stars.
With restless ghosts, and what you know
Flock there when ere the cock doth crow ;
I've elbow'd thousands into hell.
My ears delight to hear them yell.
I've broke the backs of millions more
Upon that grim infernal shore ;
So strike if you're a valiant knight,
' Or I shall knock ye down with might.
YUL YUL 503
Your proud insults Til never bear,
To inches 1*11 your body tear ;
If you, my love, can keep, can keep,
You first must make me sleep, sleep, sleep.
The second Knight now speaks, and the sparring becomes
keener : —
Lash, dash — your staff to crash,
My fool, have you the water brash ?
' If you have not, I soon shall know,
I soon shall cause you tumble low ;
So thump away, and I shall fling
. Some blows on you, and make ye ring
Like ye sounding belly buts.
To start the music of thy guts ;
Or clinkers on thy hairy scull.
To fell thee like a homed bull.
Keel away, who first shall fall
Must pardon from the other call ;
Tho' you have fought beyond the sun,
I find we'll have some goodly fun ;
For I have boxed in the East,
To solar furnace toss'd the beast.
First Knight falls and sings out —
A doctor ! doctor, or I die —
** A doctor, doctor, here am L"
Wounded Knight sayeth —
" What can you cure ? "
Belzebub answereth —
** All disorders to be sure,
** The gravel and the gout,
" The rotting of the snout ;
** If the devil be in you,
** I can blow him out
** Cut off legs and arms,
** Join them too again
** By the virtue ofmy club^
** Up Jack, and fight amain," &c &c.
Thus a fellow is struck out oifive senses mto fifteen.
To conclude the whole matter then, I console myself
by singing this little song : — The Book personified in my
Love,
The wuntry sun*s gane down my love.
And cauld lies the sna ;
But the spring may soon come roun* my love,
And thow it a' awa ;
504 YUL YUL
And thow it a' awa, my love,
While flowers bloom oat sae fiur ;
But the blighted root will never shoot,
'Twill never flourish mair.
The storm delights to roar, my love.
The &eming waters flee ;
But a calm may lull the shore, my love.
And smooth the hilly sea ;
And smooth the hilly sea, my love.
Which rows in anger sair ;
But the founder'd ship will never trip
Alang its sur&ce mair.
Our doom is flx'd — we part, my love,
Thy way is fu' o* wiles ;
But ay, keep up thy heart, mv love,
And meet the warl wi' smiles ;
And meet the warl wi* smiles, my love,
Tho' thunders round ye rair.
In darkness sweet, we yet may meet.
And never sinder mair.
The sun he rules the day, my love,
llie moon she rules the night.
But what doth rule thy way, my love.
What |[uideth thee aright ?
What guideth thee aright, my love,
On earth and sea and air?
Its Chance, the Blinman, who can dance ;
He's wi' thee ever mair.
FINIS.
]
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504 YUL YUL
And thow it a' awa, xny love,
While flowers bloom out sae fair ;
Rut the blighted root will never shoot,
*Twill never flourish mair.
The storm delights to roar, my love,
The faeming waters flee ;
But a calm may lull the shore, my love,
And smooth the hilly sea ;
And smooth the hilly sea, my love.
Which rows in anger sair ;
But the founder'd ship will never trip
Alang its surface mair.
Our doom is iix*d — we part, my love,
Thy way is fii* o* wiles ;
Bat ay, keep up thy heart, mv love,
And meet the warl wi' smiles ;
And meet the warl wi' smiles, my love,
Tho' thunders round ye rair,
In darkness sweet, we yet may meet.
And never sinder mair.
The sun he rules the day, my love,
ITie moon she rules the night.
But what doth rule thy way, my love,
Wliat puideth thee aright ?
What guideth thee aright, my love.
On earth and sea and air ?
Its Chance^ the B/inman, who can dance ;
He's wi' thee ever mair.
FINIS.
I
THB NBW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
KBFBRBNCB DBPABTMBNT
taken from tha B>ildm«
SEP 1 f 'M-
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